Scream: Killer's Reunion
by EeriexVerra
Summary: Shortly after the events of Scre4m, Woodsboro heaves a collective sigh of relief. But it's not over yet, as all seven of the killers known as Ghostface apparently return from the grave, eager for their second chance to shine.
1. Rebirth

Scream: Killers' Reunion

Chapter One: Rebirth

Author's note: I do have a plan for where I'm going with this. If you'd bear with me, I think you'll find it a very pleasant surprise. Also, I'm aware that Mrs. Loomis' first name is never out and out revealed, but in Scream 2, Mickey calls her Deb, so I make the reasonable assumption that her full name is Debbie Loomis. If it bugs you, sorry.

Seven people sat in a circle, facing each other.

"The world thinks we're dead," spoke one. He was a tall, handsome young man, with short, somewhat spiky hair. Mickey Altieri.

"Well, I guess we're just going to have to show them otherwise, won't we?" said a younger man, with long hair and a very mellow expression. Charlie Walker.

Another one laughed, briefly but joyously. "It's gonna be such a fuckin' blast! Second time around's going to be one hell of a party!" He had short hair, and was about the same age as Charlie. Stu Macher.

"Let's make a statement, together, and tell those mean-spirited, ignorant people that we won't be going anywhere for a long time," another said. This one was a middle-aged woman, with somewhat short hair. Debbie Loomis.

"On the way, let's make a quick pit stop, and do away with my pain in the ass half-sister," said a man in glasses. Roman Bridger.

"She may have gotten to be the last woman standing before, but this time, we will get the glory," said a short, lovely girl with long dark brown hair. Jill Roberts.

A young man with medium length brown hair nodded. "Yeah, this is sounding good. I can't wait." Billy Loomis.

Each of them produced a very familiar costume and knife.

Not so far away, Sidney Prescott was having a lot of trouble sleeping. Something just felt… wrong. She couldn't think of what, so she attributed it to the stress of her latest escapade, of finding out that her cousin had been so jealous of what Sidney had gone through that she had recruited an accomplice, like Billy and Debbie before her had done, and done all that she could to usurp Sidney's 'place' as the survivor of several attacks by vicious killers. It had been going on since high school, and while Sidney had been afraid each time, she was also, in a way, sick of it. Sick of always being a target, of everyone around her dying or being terribly hurt.

Still, shit happened to everyone, and Sidney tried not to dwell on the frequent attempts on her life. Even her book was more an effort to get past those events and clear the air than to, as many of her critics had claimed, cash in on the gore that had defined her life to others. She had once resented Cotton Weary for doing almost the same thing, but now, too late to make amends with him, she understood where he had been coming from. This was therapeutic, in a way.

The home phone rang.

_At this hour?_ Sidney thought, partly annoyed. She still answered it. "Hello?"

"Hello, Sidney." That voice, again. She had lived with that voice so long, she couldn't even really remember life without it. "Remember me?" Absentmindedly, Sidney leaned over the check the caller ID. She had spoken to all seven Ghostfaces, but had gotten a thousandfold more calls from insensitive prankers.

The called ID said GHOSTFACE, and gave the number as W-ill-kil-lyou. Now, that was some trick.

"Fuck off," Sidney said, disgusted rather than impressed, and hung up. The phone promptly rang again. She hung it up again. It kept ringing, so she unplugged the line. And still it kept ringing.

_Am I dreaming?_ Sidney wondered. Slowly, she picked up the phone.

"That's better," the voice of Ghostface said, chuckling. "But you're in for more of a surprise than this, Sid. Because you do know me, better than you thought. It's me," Ghostface continued, "Billy." Billy Loomis finished.

"Billy?" Sidney asked, now very sure she was dreaming. But if she was dreaming, how was the voice exactly like she remembered Billy's to be? "No, you're not. You've been dead for years. I visit your grave sometimes."

"I'm flattered," Billy replied. "Tell you what, Sid. Visit my grave again, and see for yourself. And see Stu's. And my mother's. And Mickey's. And Roman's. And Jill's. And Charlie's. We've come back for you, Sid, and we won't be going anywhere for a long time. But you'll see, real soon, even if you don't go to our graves. Soon, everyone will see." The other end hung up. Sidney was no longer sure that she was dreaming this. It would hardly be her first nightmare about Ghostface, or the killers that had been behind the mask. The worst ones were about Billy, Jill, Roman, and Mickey. But this felt so real, despite the impossible things happening.

She pinched herself, and didn't wake up. Splashed her face in cold water, and didn't wake up. Slammed her head into a wall, and it hurt. She still didn't wake up. Sidney knew then that she would have to take a drive. She was closest to the graves of Mickey Altieri and Debbie Loomis.

Sidney hit the road, her mind racing. She had thought to call the police first, but she had to see, had to know. If the graves of Mickey and Debbie had been disturbed, she would call the police then, tell them everything, and then check herself on the grave of Roman, then Stu, Billy, Jill, and Charlie. She had to see it with her own eyes.

In an hour and a half, she was at the Serene Memories Cemetery. She drove in, and straight to their graves. She occasionally visited these as well, and knew where they were. She could see even before leaving the car that something was wrong with both graves. She got out, and checked. The graves had been dug up. The coffins were open. And empty. The bodies of Mickey Altieri and Debbie Loomis were nowhere to be seen.

Sidney called the police.


	2. About and Abroad

Chapter Two: About and Abroad

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream, or profit from this.

As Sidney was heading to the graveyard, the seven people reconvened.

"Sweetie, did you get through to her okay?" Debbie asked. Billy nodded, smiling.

"Yeah, I think she got a good, clear message," Billy said smugly. "She should be heading for your and Mickey's graves now. If it goes well, she'll check Roman's next, then to Woodsboro for the rest of us."

"Good," Jill said. "Charlie and I are going to get moving then, to get ready for her. C'mon," she said, rising. Charlie got up too, and the pair left.

"Roman and I will keep an eye on Sid," Mickey said, getting up too. "If she doesn't do what we thought, we'll call you immediately."

The police arrived promptly, and, not unexpectedly, were as baffled as Sidney about getting a call from the long-dead Billy Loomis over a disconnected landline phone, but considered that a similar trick had been employed by Roman Bridger, and took Sidney's report seriously. Calls were placed to check on the graves of Roman, Billy, Stu Macher, Jill Roberts, and Charlie Walker.

"I have to see it for myself," Sidney said. "Whatever they find, I have to check."

The officer taking her report, Detective Hoffman, frowned slightly. "Miss Prescott, you have my word that whatever may have happened, you weren't called by the ghost of Billy Loomis. Wherever the bodies of Mr. Altieri and Mrs. Loomis may be, they're dead. You do know that, don't you?"

How could Sidney explain? It had been Billy's voice so perfectly, so completely in tone, inflection, and speaking style. A voice changer alone couldn't do that. Even her half-brother Roman, as devious as he had been, had not been able to so perfectly replicate someone, even people he had known. If the caller hadn't been Billy, but had known him, Billy had been dead for 14 years. That was a long time to still be able to imitate someone so well.

What's more, she had killed many of the Ghostfaces herself. She had killed Mickey with Gale, and may have killed Debbie, if Cotton hadn't. She had killed Stu and Billy herself. She helped Dewey kill her brother. And Sidney had, most recently, killed her cousin, Jill Roberts.

"I still need to see it, in person, with my own eyes," Sidney insisted. "It'd take less than a day."

"Okay," Detective Hoffman sighed. Sidney had left a full report, and signed a release for the police to check her house phone for any signs of tampering and check the records to try to crack who had called. He had more than enough work to do without the woman around. "I'll call you when we know more."

Minutes later, Sidney was inbound to L.A. By now, the reports would have come in from the officers who had checked the other five graves, but whatever they had found, she still felt a need to see for herself, to make sure that the dead only lived on in nightmares.

Roman and Mickey were near, and Roman made the call. Stu picked up. "Looks like Sid is making a beeline to check on me," Roman said. "We're tailing her, but it's definitely where she's going. Next will be Woodsboro."

"Yeah, good," Stu said, stifling giggles. "Charlie called a while ago, too. He and Jill are in Woodsboro now, getting everything ready."

"Good," Roman said. "She's a good cousin. Call you later," Roman said, hanging up.

"Just one big happy family, huh?" Mickey asked jovially. "You try killin' Sid, Jill takes it up later and tries killing Sid, but she gets the better on you both. But now, we've got the upper hand. If this was a sequel, it'd be just the twist things need to stay fresh."

"Well, at least Jill and I have each other," Roman said amiably. He despised his mother and sister, but his cousin and he shared at least one interest, a deep enough one to bring them together and give them some sense of family.

Sidney was in L.A. now, and soon reached Peace Cemetery. There was caution tape at a grave that was probably Roman's… Sidney got out of the car, and had her fears confirmed. Apparently, Hoffman had told the LAPD to expect Sidney, as she was let through without argument. It was indeed Roman's grave. Again, it had been dug up. The coffin lay empty. Thanking the police, Sidney went back to her car, and started for Woodsboro.

Three hours later, she was there. Sidney was now truly afraid. When you had dug up three graves, things had gone beyond prank. Whatever was going on, she strongly felt something grim was coming down the pipe. All too soon, she was at Silent Hills Cemetery. Sheriff Dewey Riley was there.

"Hey, Sid," he said morosely. "I had heard you might come here, and why… well, yeah, see for yourself," he said. The graves of Billy, Stu, Jill, and Charlie were some distance apart, but looking around, Sidney could see them all, if a little distantly. She checked each in turn. Dug up, no body. No evidence. Nothing.

"We don't know when it would have happened," Dewey said. "Best we can say is that it was less than 48 hours ago. That was the last time the caretaker was out here mowing, and he said it was all fine then." He turned to face Sidney fully. "Is it true that you got a call from someone posing as Billy?"

Sidney could only nod.

"What a sick thing to do," Dewey spat. "As bad as Roman was. But Sid, something this big, whoever did it would have left some evidence." Sidney looked away at Billy's grave. "We'll catch them, and so-glirgh!" Sidney's head snapped back around as Dewey's words became a wet gurgle.

Ghostface stood there, knife in hand. He held Dewey's forehead. Ghostface had slashed Dewey's throat.

"Dewey!" Sidney cried, taking a step to her longtime friend, to the man who had been like a brother to her, Ghostface stepped over his twitching body to stop her, idly kicking Dewey into Charlie's grave, the last Sidney had checked.

"Oh, that's just the start of your problems," Ghostface said through the changer they had all used. He took his mask off, revealing the face of Charlie Walker, looking healthy and well.

"Jill killed you," Sidney said defensively, as if trying to reason away the dead young man before her.

"And you killed me," said a familiar voice behind her. Sidney spun around and yelped at the sight of Jill Roberts, in her Ghostface robe but unmasked. "But here we are."

"You're working with her again?" Sidney stunned, more stunned at that, for the moment, than the pair being alive.

"What, am I supposed to be mad about that forever?" Charlie scoffed. "It happened to Mickey too, but we've decided to get on with our lives. After we settle one last little spot of business, that is."

"It's too bad that I won't get to replace you," Jill said with audible regret. "But you know, this is even better. I'm back from the dead. I will be more famous and revered, if not adored and loved, than you ever were." She and Charlie moved in tandem toward Sidney, who booked it to her left, tearing through the graveyard. She could hear Jill and Charlie after her, so she whipped out her phone and dialed 911 as she raced.

"911, what is your emergency?" a too-calm voice answered.

"_I'm SidnePrescott and Sheriff is dead and Ghostface is chasing me through graveyard_!" she shouted.

"Okay, Ma'am, I'll send some officers out to Silent Hills Cemetery immediately," the voice said, still not nearly worried enough about what was going on. "I'm going to have to ask you to stay on the line with me, and try to tell me what's going on."

"_Ghostface is here, Sheriff Riley's dead_!" Sidney shouted.

"Okay, Ma'am, going to have to ask you to lower your voice. Volume's not an issue here, clarity is," the operator said.

Sidney dropped her phone and ran faster. She could still hear one of them behind her. She hopped a waist high wooden fence in a single bound, and entered a residential area, where Dewey and Tatum had grown up. Still dashing through the clear afternoon, she knocked on all the doors as she passed. She could no longer hear Jill or Charlie behind her, but didn't doubt they were close.

Mercifully, a few people opened the door, and chased after Sidney, asking what the problem was. In the safety of a group, she explained what happened. Soon, the police were there. The body of Dewey was recovered. Although he had survived many attacks before, he was declared dead as soon as he was recovered. Sidney accompanied the police back to the station to tell them what had happened, to confirm, however unlikely it seemed, that at least two of the deceased Ghostface killers, were back.


	3. Failure, Success

Chapter Three: My Greatest Failures, My Greatest Successes

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream. If I did, this would be the next movie. Also, I'd be loaded, and would have a lot of memorabilia.

Author's notes: I know it was kind of a shocker to have Dewey die so early, but if you stick with me to the end, you'll see it had a greater purpose. As for Jill sort of giving up on being beloved like her cousin was, she's not a dummy, and is aware that by being foiled by Sidney, she's lost the chance to get that kind of attention for the foreseeable future. Being outed as Ghostface will do that. But she's working out a different direction to try for in greater quantity to try to make up for it. A great plotter, is Jill Roberts, and she doesn't easily give up on her dreams, no matter what lengths she has to go to get them. Also, my favorite author is having a few fundraisers on his site. It'd be so awesome if you helped him out, they'll all good causes: funding for the artist he works with, starting an arms company (he makes really, really cool swords too, and I understand he makes guns), and improving the shop's equipment so he'll take 10% off of everything he sells. The link for it is in my profile, so please, take a look at it!

Okay, PSA aside, back to Scream!

Gale Riley met Sidney at the station. The sadness hadn't even started to set in for Gale yet. She still hadn't really accepted that Dewey, her husband of a decade, who had pulled through four brutal attacks in the past and came out smelling like roses, was now dead. To hear from Sidney that he had died not only by the hand of Ghostface, but of Charlie Walker, lessened her belief of what was happening rather increased it. Charlie was dead, damnit! Dewey had earned his life by surviving the latest Woodsboro massacre! How the hell had this possibly happened?

The stab wound in her shoulder hadn't fully healed yet, nor had the images faded every time she closed her eyes. Jill had seemed like such a nice girl. How had she turned out to be possibly the most evil Ghostface of them all? Mickey, Stu, and Billy had been batshit crazy, almost to the point where you couldn't even call them bad guys, they were so far gone. Debbie and Roman had been very callous, Debbie more than Roman, but they had been coming from a place of extreme hurt and sadness. Now that they weren't trying to kill her, Gale nearly felt sorry for the two of them. Charlie had been an odd one, but remembering his serene manner and film enthusiasm, Gale had trouble thinking of Charlie as evil… Jill, though… what else could you call her? She had engineered a murder spree to seem like an innocent heroine, and had murdered Charlie, her own accomplice, who had been nothing but loyal to her. What else could you call the girl?

Gale, like many other people, had noticed the similarity between the real world she lived in, and horror movies, but it had always seemed to her that she had lived in a fairly plausible slasher, a la The Texas Chainsaw Massacre or Psycho. A world where sick thing sometimes happened, but always something that could be understood. Jill and Charlie, back from the dead… and maybe even worse, maybe Roman, Mickey, Debbie, Stu, and Billy too.

If Charlie hadn't killed her husband a month after his death, Gale would never have entertained the possibility. But Sidney said she clearly saw Charlie and Jill do it, and Gale had come to trust Sidney, especially when Sid said something that might be a little hard to swallow.

Gale felt so helpless, and alone. Without Dewey, it was like a itch in the back of her mind, outside any possibility of scratching, an emptiness that was never going to fill.

No one other than Sidney had seen Ghostface, either Charlie or Jill. That wasn't very surprising, though. Whether the killers were resurrected boogeymen or an elaborate sham of some kind, it wasn't too likely that they would have chased Sidney through the streets of a residential area in clear daytime. Even the world's stupidest killers almost never did that. It was more sensible for the killers to draw back, but stay close, waiting for a good opportunity to strike.

The area where the incident had taken place was carefully searched, but no evidence was found. However, Ghostface rarely left evidence anyway, and the Woodsboro police had already heard about Sidney's report of a call from Billy Loomis, as well as that the graves of Mickey Altieri, Debbie Loomis, and Roman Bridger had been opened. No one was willing to admit that seven dead people were the suspects, so there were no suspects yet.

In Woodsboro, the seven Ghostfaces met up again where no one would see them.

"The hell, guys?" Stu asked. "Why do we even make plans if they don't happen?"

"No, you know what?" Jill replied. "You're right. We all had Sidney where we wanted her when we tried to kill her, so she didn't move around a lot, but that fucking media princess keeps up on her cardio. She was like a bat out of hell, and neither of us could catch her. Next time, we have to take away her option to run."

"So, now what? Do we try to keep to the plan about Sidney?" Charlie asked.

"No!" Mickey exclaimed. "As a plot, things have reached a early shock death, a hallmark of many sequels to show how serious things are. Sheriff Riley, four time survivor, dead in the first act. The audience now understands that absolutely anything can happen, that no one is safe. No, we don't keep trying shock here and go for Sidney." He was gesturing passionately about his point now, really seeing his vision in his mind's eye. "If we skip over her, Sidney is going to come to us, like Luke coming to Darth Vader, like Nancy seeking out Freddy Krueger. She won't be able to stay away if she wants to. What we do now is turn in other directions, and start getting eyes on us."

Many of the killers had different motives, but Mickey and Jill both counted themselves fortunate that they were able to see eye to eye with each other. They were both gleeful killers, but wanted nothing more than to be the center of attention in a huge spectacle. It allowed the two to work well together.

"Mickey, just so we're clear, Sidney and Gale both have to die," Debbie said. Like her son, Debbie was passionate about her hobby, but all other targets save Sidney, Gale, and Dewey were incidental. To her glee, Dewey was now dead, but there were still 2/3 of her hit list not seen to.

"Oh, never you worry, Mom," Billy said. "Mickey makes a good point, but Sidney is fucking dead, and I wouldn't mind shutting up Gale, either."

"I like it," Roman said quietly. "Let Sidney stress out as bodies pile up all around her. Gale's too much of a busybody to even think about staying out of it, and Sidney, one way or another, will find herself involved even if we don't hunt her down. If Mickey's wrong, and she won't just walk into things, then we can go for her."

All three police departments agreed that Sidney was a very important witness, and would probably be the next target. After her debriefing about the events in the cemetery, Gale asked Sidney if she wanted to go to the house she and Dewey had lived in, up to that afternoon, and talk about it, have a little bit of a mini-wake as the remaining Ghostface survivors. Sidney understood that this was for Gale's benefit as much as hers, and couldn't deny that it was what the spirit of the camaraderie that the three of them had enjoyed for the last 14 years deserved.

The women were offered police protection, but neither wanted a bodyguard around for something that would be so personal to them, and who would act as a grim reminder that Dewey's killer was loose, and probably keeping an eye on the two of them. They did agree to having the police keep a particularly close eye on the Riley house, which seemed like a fair compromise of safety and security.

In the Riley House, it cut Sidney like a knife to see the visible signs of the happy life Dewey and Riley had enjoyed together, a life that should have been long and happy. Gone now, all gone, cut short in an instant.

"He had actually called me from the graveyard, waiting for you," Gale said slowly, through a veil of tears. "He had said that this whole thing had probably just been a very elaborate and mean prank, and that it would be great to see you without a killer after us."

Sidney sobbed harder as she clearly saw it in her mind's eye, how it should have been, where Charlie and Jill and Billy were still dead like they should have been, and Sidney would have stayed for dinner, catching up on how the last month had been, how their wounds were healing, the new things they had wanted to do, now that they had cheated Father Death once again.

Hours ticked by as they talked about their memories of Dewey, and Gale kept asking if it had really been Jill and Charlie, if it hadn't been some incredible kind of illusion. Both women often excused themselves to the bathroom to clean their faces up from the tear streaks that wouldn't stop coming. It was sad, it was mourning, but it was cathartic, and Sidney and Gale knew that they both needed this.


	4. Interlude: Clarifications

_Interlude: Clarifications_

_Hurray! $2 has been donated so far! It's pretty awesome! I also heard an excellent thought, prompting me to write this to make some things clearer, for cases where my attempts at subtlety have been less than they should have been: Some of the Ghostfaces (Jill, Roman, to some extent, Billy and Debbie), don't work well with others over the long run, and will want to be the last man standing, particularly the much-beloved Jill Roberts. This will sort of be addressed later, but it doesn't spoil anything for me to say a few words about this now, either. The seven slashers collectively called Ghostface are working together, obviously. Of course, many of them have different motives, as I addressed in Chapter Three, mentioning that those of like motives work better together, like Mickey and Jill. And some of them also betrayed their accomplice: Mickey was betrayed by Debbie, and Jill betrayed Charlie. Charlie mentioned in Chapter Two that he's not worrying about it, and Mickey has a similar attitude. I wonder if maybe they were considering killing their accomplices too, and just got beaten to the punch? Food for thought!_

_In short, they've all got bigger things to worry about than squabbling and infighting: the seven of them are alive again, and no one wants to blow the chance by having them at each other's throats. None of the Ghostfaces are stupid, and each recognize that the others will help them get what they want: Billy, Roman, and Debbie want revenge for their ruined lives and lost loved ones (Roman less so on that latter part). Stu wants to have a good time. Charlie wanted to help Jill in life, but that's kind of taken a back seat in light of that she stabbed him to death just so that she could be the last one alive (seriously, how hardcore is Jill?). Now that he's resurrected, Charlie is motivated by the joy he derives from the power of being a notorious spree killer, and is venting his rage at a world that sort of shat on him, even if most of the mistreatment was just in Charlie's own mind (that's the feeling I got from Scre4m, particularly his words to Kirby, but your mileage may vary, of course). Mickey and Jill, of course, are in it for the fame. Jill's also pissed at being unable to get what she originally wanted, so she intends to take it out on her victims, to build more of a cult following, the kind that the big-name killers always get, the fear and respect that go along with that kind of legend. She doesn't like it as much as being the adored, admired survivor of an evil killer, but Jill's making the best of the situation she's in, and quickly came to terms with the change in plans. Mickey… some of you have no doubt noticed that I personally like Mickey very much. That's because I, A. have a bit of a crush on him, and B. writing the outline, and deciding the ways that their personalities in this were going to change and not change, I literally left Mickey exactly like he was. I admire the purity of Mickey, his tenacity and deadliness. He was able to singlehandedly kill Andrews and Richards, two armed cops bodyguarding Sidney. They were literally there to kill him and Debbie, and Mickey was able to overcome them both. It's debatable whether any other Ghostface has matched this accomplishment, but it does mark Mickey as being unbelievably lethal. Although he's in it for the fame, and definitely wants center stage, Mickey works well with the others, content that even if all seven of them are brought to trial, he's going to be able to be the star overall._

_For Jill, in particular… it wouldn't be out of the question to think that she considers the current arrangement of teamwork a temporary one, and that in the end, she still intends to stand alone, to take all of the legacy of Ghostface for herself. But Jill's not a fool, and knows that the day to turn on the others isn't going to be for a little bit, yet. She still needs the resources and help that the others can give her to get everything ready. So, for the moment, she, and all the others, are team players, even if they're plotting to do each other in as soon as they can afford to._

_Roman, too, probably considers the others expendable, despite the bond he has formed with his cousin. In fact, it was his idea in the first place to have an accomplice to sell out if it proved useful. But Roman is definitely thinking more pragmatically than Jill, and wouldn't turn on the others unless it gave him some kind of an advantage, or let him escape something unsavory. Roman certainly proved the most able to act on his own, and I think that in this fic, even though he's a little chummy with the others, he probably secretly thinks very negatively about all of them._

_Look for Chapter Four: At The Same Time, In The Same Place, tomorrow._


	5. At The Same Time, In The Same Place

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream.

Author's notes: I'm really glad at the feedback I've gotten here! Thank you all so much! Because of you, I can do my best, and upload a new chapter daily. Also, it should go without saying, but some kind of complex psychological ailments will be presented here, and it's worth remembering that the views some characters hold aren't necessarily the views that I hold. Please remember to check my profile for the link to Nemeses' donation page. If you haven't ever read any of his books, I strongly recommend them.

Chapter Four: At The Same Time, In The Same Place

Officially, nothing was yet being said about the fate of Dewey Riley, or the report of what Sidney had said happened. But Woodsboro, for all the tragedy that had befallen it, was essentially a small town, with a gossip mill that was relentless and shockingly well-informed. And so, at around seven that evening, Kirby Reed got a text message, telling her that the Sheriff had been killed by Ghostface, and that it was apparently Charlie Walker that did the deed. As the icing on the cake, Jill Roberts had also been sighted.

Kirby's knee-jerk reaction was puzzlement, not fear. She could believe that Sheriff Riley was dead. It was unlikely, but not implausible, that Ghostface would have done it- Ghostface was a legacy, not a single person. Anyone with a Father Death costume, a knife, maybe a voice changer, and some moxie was Ghostface. But that it had been Charlie and Jill was what confused her. Making it worse, she had soon gotten many people telling her exactly the same story, without one deviation. Less like an urban legend, and more like reporting the facts, as hard to believe as they seemed.

Kirby was, very recently, no longer bedridden, but still had trouble moving. She thought now that she understood what Charlie's goal had been in attacking her. If Jill had done it, she'd just have killed her. Charlie had been more ambivalent, probably conflicted by his personal feelings. He hadn't meant to kill her, nor had he meant to spare her. He'd hurt her very badly, though not so badly that she was a goner, and left things to chance. It seemed like just the sort of thing that Charlie would do, if you thought of him as a murderer. His idea of being fair, of balancing his loyalty to Jill for his affection towards her.

It didn't do much to soften Kirby's resentment of him nor of Jill, who had put him up to it, who had turned out to be even worse than Charlie had been.

Whether the pair was back from beyond the grave or not, and Kirby had serious doubts that they were, she found that the rumor they were had gotten her thinking back to those recent events… granted, it didn't take much to remind her about it. She was very bitter about it, and sad.

So quickly, she had lost her best friends… at the hands of her best friends. Who had also shown a desire to kill her, in one case, and a willingness to, in the other. At first, Kirby had felt it was very unfair, that she had been a good person. She had been thinking about it for a while since then, and her outlook had changed somewhat. She had a philosophical revelation. She didn't feel that she deserved to die, but she had wondered, did she deserve to live? That one was a little less clear-cut.

So Kirby had vowed that she would try to grow from this, and become someone who deserved life. For now, she was still convalescing, but when she had fully healed, she intended to take part in a lot of volunteer and community programs, and become someone who was clearly doing good in the world.

But, if Kirby was being honest with herself, it went even deeper than that. Trevor… Olivia… Robbie… Charlie… Jill. Five lives cut short, five lives that had been dear to her. All their potential, all that they could have been, lost forever. Although Kirby had been badly injured, she would live. Consciously or not, Kirby had decided that she would live for the six of them, and try to make the world a better place. Essentially a foolish dream, doomed before it began, but it had seemed like an appropriate memorial. She would create a legacy that was the antithesis of Ghostface. Ghostface was many people, Kirby was one girl. Ghostface, generally created havoc and death. Kirby would create happiness and health. She would kill Ghostface in the only way that someone like that could really die- by making everything and everyone so peaceful that nobody would ever put on that costume and start killing people ever again.

That had been her plan, but… that had been a little earlier, when Charlie and Jill were definitely dead and the world made sense even if it could be an ugly truth sometimes. If they were alive… what was Kirby to do about them? Should she do the default thing, and stay out of it as much as possible? Should she try to help stop them? Should she help them, out of the spirit of their former friendship? Learn how the hell they had managed to do it? It was such a unique problem that Kirby honestly had almost no idea what to do about it.

For the moment, though, the idea that the two were alive were just rumors. Kirby drifted off into a restless sleep, haunted by dreams of Charlie and Jill in black robes with long hunting knives.


	6. Reigniting the Legacy

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream.

Author's note: One of my most avid reviewers, Jill Roberts Fan, said that she (He?) wants to see Charlie and Stu acting as a team. My answer to that, as well as to anyone else who was thinking it: I didn't originally plan to have them running anything together, but I love the idea, and I'll expand things a bit to make it fit in. Also, to expound a bit on the sense of danger… with the seven killers seemingly back from the grave, this is a situation more dangerous than any of the four Screams have offered. This is seven of the most brilliant and able spree and serial killers together, cooperating. The most we'd ever had before was two. Guys, Sidney, Gale, Kirby, and everyone else is in a tight spot!

Chapter Five: Reigniting the Legacy

Kirby was awakened by her phone ringing. It was one in the morning.

_Urgh… probably someone else to tell me that Charlie killed the Sheriff,_ Kirby thought, mildly annoyed. Still, she answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello, Kirby," a voice replied. A very famous, albeit artificial, voice. She had personally heard it before. Investigators had reached the conclusion that the Ghostface she had gotten a call from last month had been Charlie Walker. Could it really be him again now?

"Who is this?" She asked against her better judgment.

"Were you expecting someone?" The voice of Ghostface asked.

"Well, kind of," Kirby said. "Lots of weird reports lately."

"Oh, you must mean about Sheriff Riley's death," Ghostface said smoothly, as if it had just occurred to him. "And it was even reported that Charlie Walker and Jill Roberts are back to finish what they started."

"Is that you, Charlie?" Kirby blurted out. She knew that she was saying every wrong thing she could, but she was unable to hang up and call the police, unable to shout for her parents. She was compelled to be bait, compelled to find out if it was the dead Charlie Walker calling her up.

And as terribly foolish as her choices were, after a moment, the voice of Charlie answered, "Yes. Surprised?" Kirby was too stunned to reply, so Charlie continued, "I think you're in for a bigger surprise, about, oh… now."

Her bedroom door opened two seconds later.

Two minutes earlier, Jill and Charlie, both in their Ghostface costumes, had approached Kirby's house. All the lights were out. No doubt they were all asleep.

"You up for this?" Jill asked. Charlie nodded, his expression inscrutable.

"Has to be done," Charlie said calmly.

"Guard the front door, and make the call," Jill said. "I'll sneak in and finish what you started." There was an unlocked window within easy reach. As Charlie made the call, Jill snuck in and up to Kirby's room, waiting outside her door until Charlie had set up her grand entrance, and opened the door, knife in hand. Kirby looked at her, and showed surprise as well as some confusion as Jill approached her, taking her mask off as she came closer.

"You…" Kirby said, astonished.

"Yes, me," Jill said smugly, bitingly, as she slashed Kirby's throat, and stabbed her several times for good measure, finishing what Charlie had started. Kirby let out a blood-choked gurgle and started twitching. "Me, me, me," Jill said with no small amount of pleasure. A thought occurred then to Jill, that the final girl could also be the killer, come to that. Even though she was now a known killer, having committed homicide, matricide, and the murder of her accomplice, Jill was still a beautiful, sweet (at least on the surface, sometimes), fun-loving girl. She might yet acquire a healthy share of fans.

Putting her mask back on, she rendezvoused with Charlie, running off into the night. They encountered only a single problem, a middle aged man named Henry who was out strolling to clear his mind from his family troubles. He had only barely caught sight of them when Charlie beelined for him, gutted in the classic examples set forth by Billy and Stu, and kept running. His pace had barely slowed, leaving Henry to bleed out on the sidewalk.

In the Riley house, Sidney stepped out from the bathroom, having stepped in to clean herself up again. She still hadn't stopped weeping and sobbing, but Sidney had now been awake for over 50 hours, and despite her insomnia and stress, she needed to rest. Gale understood completely, and offered to let Sidney stay the night there. She gratefully accepted, and went into the guest bedroom for some much-needed sleep.

Jill and Charlie had rejoined the others, and brought them up to speed on the murders committed.

"Great," Billy said when they had finished. "This is just how it should be. The furor over Dewey still in full swing, his body barely cooled yet, and now another survivor killed, along with some filler death."

"Yeah, it's definitely going to be making headlines all by itself for a while, but we're going to keep this good thing rolling," Mickey said, almost squirming in his glee at how beautifully things were going.

"Gale, at the very least, will investigate, and we can get her then," Debbie said.

"Holy shit, this is gonna be fun!" Stu laughed. "A shocking, bloodbath horror classic on par with John Carpenter's The Thing!" Like Mickey, he was ecstatic at how well things were going.

Roman sat silently, thinking. Shortly after they had returned to life, Debbie had stolen a cell phone from a woman's purse, and, with help from Billy and Stu, cloned it six times. Keeping their identities secret had lost its relevance: everyone knew they were Ghostface, and they felt it made a grander statement to have it known, or at least suspected, of who they were.

It had come with a certain sense of freedom for most of them. Now, they weren't completely trying to get away with it, since they were already known as the killers. They only needed not to be caught, which was proving very easy. If you knew where to look, there were good potential headquarters all around. Food and money were all over the place for the taking. The seven were not living grandly, but were hardly huddled together in an alley, either.

All these differences had gotten Roman thinking about the mistakes he made during his time as Ghostface, things he could have done for greater effect, how he could have gotten away with it all if he had just handled things a little bit better. One of the first things everyone had agreed upon was to gloat a lot less when they had someone, like Sidney, just where they wanted her. It hadn't worked out well for anyone. And he had a good idea to carry out. He would act alone- the others would say his idea was a bad one, but Roman was confident in himself, and he could enact his little plan alone, anyway.

The conversation continued around Roman.

"Hey, Charlie, weren't you sweet on that girl?" Stu asked. Charlie shrugged.

"Once. But things change." Charlie said with the faintest tinge of bitterness.

"Eh, lots of fish in the ocean," Jill said. She wasn't particularly interested in dwelling on Kirby. She had been a good friend for many years, but as she had told Sidney, Jill was in the market for fans, not friends.

Roman excused himself and left.


	7. Brother and Sister

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream

Author's Notes: Oh, thank you for clearing that up. I think Charlie did have mixed feelings this time around too, but he was more willing than before to kill Kirby. Willing enough not to leave it up to chance, even if he didn't necessarily want her as a victim. Initially, Jill and Kirby's confrontation was going to be a little longer, but Jill's learned to tone down the long monologues when she's got a victim exactly where she wants them. It hasn't worked out perfectly in the past. Didn't bite her in the ass quite as hard as it did for Billy, Stu, Debbie, and Roman, but Jill's a fast learner.

Chapter Six: Brother and Sister

Sidney's phone rang early that morning. She fumbled for it, answered it, and blearily said, "Hello?"

"Well, hello," Roman Bridger replied cheerily. "Good to hear from you, little sister."

Sidney hung up and turned her phone off before dozing off again.

While Sidney slept and Roman was acting on his own, Stu and Charlie decided to make a statement in their own way.

"Well, the death toll is at three, which is good, but I feel we can be grander," Stu had said in a rather sage tone. "I mean, seven people, that's like a guerilla force now, you know? It's a lot of fucking manpower here! I think we should be sticking it to everyone a lot harder!"

"Yeah!" Charlie exclaimed. How cool was this, to be working with his predecessor? "Let's go make some fantasies come true!" So the pair had donned their costumes, grabbed their knives, voice changers and cell phones, and enjoyed a bit of a jag, breaking into two homes and killing everyone inside. Stu had shown Charlie the finer points of how to gut someone- how to leave them briefly alive to appreciate what had been done to him, and how to hang someone by their own intestines. That was a very difficult one to pull off, and it had to be with someone fairly light, but Charlie and Stu were both able to do it, although when it was Charlie's turn, Stu helped him a little bit.

Stu killed Casey's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Becker, and Charlie killed the rest of the Sheldon family, Robbie's parents.

As per usual, the phone call started it all. Stu led here, showing Charlie how he and Billy had developed it, asking lots of questions, saying very little, and answering questions with more questions.

"Now that serves two purposes," Stu had explained beforehand. "One, it lets you figure out what's going on inside, and two, it's very fucking creepy after a little bit." Mr. Becker had been sleeping, as expected. There hadn't been much point in scaring him first, so after bamboozling him with some vague speaking, Stu, still on the phone, snuck in, broke the door down, stabbed Mr. Becker several times with his wife trapped in the room, gutted Mrs. Becker, and hung her from the same tree he had hung her daughter from 14 years ago.

Charlie had been impressed and pleased to learn from Stu, and he imitated Stu closely when he handled the Sheldons. The only significant change he made was that he chose to stab Mrs. Sheldon to death and hang Mr. Sheldon by his own entrails from his backyard.

After Sidney had slept another four hours, she woke up on her own and turned her phone back on. It immediately started ringing, and she answered it again. "Hello?"

"Well, if it isn't a potential victim!" A shrill, unfamiliar voice answered. Was this a prank, a wrong number, or a creative use of the voice changer? Could it possibly be some new threat? "How about a tour, girlie? Yes… a tour straight to _Hell!_" Sidney abandoned all her possible ideas for mere confusion at what the fuck she was hearing. "Because I'll be killing you, with my own two diabolical hands, which are comprised of many sinister fingers!" It didn't even sound like a natural human voice, but it was rather unlike any Ghostface to make a call like this. "Which I shall fiendishly use to destroy you and all those precious to you, one by one!" It hung up. Sidney checked the number. It was blocked. When Roman had called earlier, his number had been blocked too, she saw. No surprise there.

But what the fuck had that call just been? Sidney almost wondered if it was the agent that had resurrected the Ghostfaces, but couldn't quite believe that it had been something so… corny? Was that it? Hammy? Whatever it was, it seemed as perplexing as it did threatening.

Having worked out some of her grief over Dewey, Sidney's psyche was assaulted by a new trouble: Even if it was just Jill and Charlie back, or if all seven Ghostfaces had been resurrected, how had it happened? The first time around, around Steve and Casey had been killed, it was questioned if occult practices had been involved. Had they been? Had Billy and Stu somehow figured out immortality, or something close to it, and passed that secret along? Or had the other five figured it out too?

Under any other circumstances, these would be ridiculous thoughts, absurd beyond any notion of entertaining. Now, however, Sidney was faced with the very real probability that between two and seven dead killers had been born again, and since part of her mind had started to accept that, she was now questioning the how of it.

_Home_, her mind commanded her. Sidney's home had become very secure over the years, and after the events of the recent Woodsboro happenings, had been made safer than ever. She should take Gale and go back there.

Gale was awake, and Sidney told her what had happened, and her wish to take them both back to her house.

"Well, I do agree that sounds smart, but I can't do it just yet," Gale said. "I have to get Dewey's affairs in order. His body will be kept as evidence for a while, but I need to make the calls to everyone, to check on what funeral home is going to handle this, handling the media about it…" she trailed off, mumbling slightly. Sidney understood. Gale did indeed have some responsibilities as the next of kin, but she also wanted a little time to work through this on her own.

"I'll come down when I'm done," Gale promised. Sidney believed her, and left, to go back to her own home.

The Woodsboro police, meanwhile, were investigating the many deaths that had occurred that night. Five more had died in addition to Dewey Riley, and part of their concerns were quelling in advance the inevitable outrage that was going to be raised about this. No one had seen anything, and no evidence had been left, pointing to a very intelligent, possibly experienced killer or killers.

It was a long drive back to Sidney's home, but when she made it through her gate, she felt a palpable relief. Ten years ago, she had gotten a dog who would attack intruders, an alarm system, nigh-impenetrable doors, and an advanced degree of anonymity. Since then, she had added safe rooms, missile-resistant windows, secret passages (that only she knew about, of course), and a few other odds and ends that could always prove to be just the thing she needed to survive a spree killer.

Billy, or someone claiming to be him (at this point, Sidney no longer considered it unlikely that it had indeed been Billy), had gotten her home phone somehow. Roman had gotten it too, ten years ago, although that was a different house and a different phone. He had apparently taken police records of her, but now, her home phone was not on police files under her name, or any name. How had Billy done it? Compared to the question of how he lived again, though, it seemed rather trivial. If he could return from the dead, getting a phone number was surely a small matter.

She parked her car in the garage (the door to her garage was electronically locked, and strong enough not to even bend if a van hit it at top speed), and went inside, checking the system to be sure that there had been no signs of any intrusion, that all the doors were locked, and the windows still barred against entry.

She slowly moseyed into her living room, happy to be in a place where she was definitely safe.

"Well, hello, Sidney," a familiar, though long-dead voice said. Sidney snapped to attention. In her recliner, her half-brother, Roman Bridger, sat, looking relaxed and at east. He was in his Ghostface costume, but Sidney recognized the voice and size. He was bigger than either Charlie or Jill. Still…

"Take the mask off, would you?" Sidney asked. Her curiosity outweighed her fear. Roman obliged, showing his face. Yes, it was definitely him, as sure as Charlie had been himself, and Jill had been herself. He hadn't aged a day from the last time Sidney saw him. Perhaps it was only to be expected.

"How did you get in here?" Sidney asked. She wasn't so clueless as to not be afraid, but Roman still hadn't even gotten up, or tensed. Although he had tried to kill her, there was no sense of menace from him at the moment.

"I'm a clever guy. I can find my way into anywhere," Roman replied casually. "But sit, sit. I'm just here to talk." He wasn't lying. As much as Roman despised his half-sister, and wished to kill her, he agreed with the others, that as a target, Sidney would place herself into a perfect situation to be killed.

A decade was a long time, though. Roman had no intention of underestimating Sidney again, and needed to study her a little bit to understand how she had changed in that time.

"How did you come back?" Sidney asked bluntly.

"That's for us to know," Roman lied. He had no idea how he had been resurrected. The others claimed they didn't either, and Roman had no reason to disbelieve them. No need for Sidney to know about that, though.

"I'm glad you're here," Sidney said, sitting down on the couch, her hands at her sides.

"Oh? And just why might that be, Sid?" Roman asked, not expecting to hear that.

"Well, Roman, it's so…" Sidney said, her right hand fishing in the cushion as she spoke, and bringing out a .45 ACP Rock Island M1911A1, taking the safety off as she aimed it at Roman, "I can kill you myself!" As soon as she'd started raising her hand, Roman had been moving, so fast that Sidney hadn't even registered it until she was trying to aim at him. Roman was moving laterally to her, making him a hard target to acquire. He ran into the hallway leading to the media room. Sidney chased him, pistol at the ready, but it was no good. Roman had vanished.

Roman hid well, back in his full Ghostface costume. He'd picked up the mask as he started making a break for it. He had learned less than he had wanted to, but enough that he felt he was now the best-informed of the seven of them about good old Sidney Prescott. He had confirmed that Sidney had no idea either how they were alive. She had become more vicious and better prepared than ever. Roman had noticed the traps before Sidney got there, speaking to the latter, letting Roman know that they were very wise indeed not to pursue Sid. If they had tried, she might well have managed to pick them all off.

Mickey had been wiser than he had known. Killing Sidney now, and making it a sure thing, would require her being lured to them, to be on the terms of Ghostface. He would keep what he had learned to himself, if he could without unnecessarily risking valuable accomplices that could perhaps be better spent elsewhere.


	8. Separate Targets

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream.

Author's note: No one else has donated anything… I'mma sad Lily.

Chapter Seven: Separate Targets

Roman wasted no time in heading back to the others after his small meeting with Sidney. Debbie was sleeping and Charlie was shopping for food when he met back up with them, but he told the others that he had confirmed Sidney was back home. Naturally, he didn't divulge what else he had learned.

"So, we've got Sid there, and Gale in Woodsboro," Billy said, mulling it over. "Should we act on this, or pass it up?"

Mickey thought about that. Either presented juicy possibilities from the point of view of their audience. If they attacked the two women in their homes separately, it sent a message of fear, and tension- no place is safe. If they passed this up, and Sidney and Gale both met the group on their terms, and were killed then, it would send a very clear message too- fuck with Ghostface, and die.

"I think we should pass it up," Mickey said, explaining what his thoughts had been. "Better for the long term, and I want to keep going for a while after we get Sidney and the good widow Weathers."

"So then, what do we do from here?" Stu asked. He was enthusiastic, but would never really be mistaken for an idea man, despite the fact that every now and then, Stu did indeed offer an excellent plan, or revisions to improve an existing one. Stu wasn't stupid, not at all. He simply lacked the vision enjoyed by the other killers, like Mickey, Roman, and Jill.

"Woodsboro has arguably played its role for the moment," Roman observed. "That cocksucking, shitbag cop is dead," Roman said in a near snarl, though he was grinning widely as he thought about how the man who had murdered him mere feet away from his goal had been their first victim, painfully murdered by Charlie, "and Stu and Charlie left them something to remember us by. Let's… switch things up, while keeping them meaningful. Lady, gentlemen, I propose that we hit up LA, do some distinctive work there, make a few kills in Windsor College, and then start in on an area near Sidney, and see how she responds."

"Brilliant!" Jill exclaimed approvingly. It was just the way to turn the attention of all of America on themselves, to announce from the shadows that they were back, that they and she, Jill Roberts, were above even Death.

Shortly thereafter, Debbie woke up and Charlie returned. The seven enjoyed a nice, big dinner together as Charlie and Debbie were brought up to speed. Charlie, like Jill, Mickey, and Billy, loved Roman's idea, agreeing that it was dramatic, got attention, and sent the perfect message without being hammy. Charlie compared it to the Remnants of Sephiroth in _Advent Children_, noting the similarity in threat and communication, but also in remaining out of harm's way as much as could really be expected. Everyone but Jill just took his word for it.

"Say, Mickey," Billy said as he dug into barbequed chicken with macaroni and cheese, "I'm actually a little curious, why are you being so helpful? I thought you'd wanted to get caught."

Mickey was washing down his cheeseburger with a long swig of apple juice, so he swallowed it and replied, "Well, yeah, eventually. But there's no point in being caught until I've got a nice, long list of shit I did that'll shock and disgust the public, until they hear my side of things and I become a media darling, a hero to millions across several demographics." Jill perked up at this, and considered that it might be beneficial to listen to Mickey a lot more often, and maybe try his idea for herself. "When it was just Deb and I, by the time we died, I would have liked to do a bit more still before being caught. Maybe a few guttings, one or two more than Billy or Stu did. Now that there's seven of us, though, we need to be epic on a scale like _The Godfather_, _Aliens_, fuck, _Godzilla_. We need a gigantic body count, in at least the triple digits. Anything less will just mark as, like, a fuckin' cult or something else that misses the point."

"What do you want us to be seen as?" Stu asked. He, like most of the others, had no wish or desire to get caught, but he was genuinely interested in understanding Mickey's thoughts on his future. It wasn't what he wanted for himself, but he could see the appeal, and respected Mickey's wishes, as long as he didn't have to get caught along with him.

"Exactly what we are, Mr. Macher," Mickey said cheerfully. "The largest group of cooperating spree and serial killers in known history. Who could even hold a candle to this record?"

"Well, Killer7 had eight people, and eventually became Killer8 with nine people," Charlie offered, although he then had to explain who Killer7 was.

"You can't compare yourself to video games, kiddo," Mickey laughed. "Video games and anime are always going to one-up movies and real life. They're the perfect medium for it."

"What about books?" Debbie asked. She received blank looks from everyone but Jill, who simply shrugged.

"You mean, like… comic books?" Charlie asked.

"Well… Never mind," Debbie said, taking a large bite out of a slice of pizza. They were leading very active lifestyles, and everyone had found themselves eating a lot more than normal.

"I've been wondering," Stu said, "Do you think we should, I dunno, make more elaborate kills or something?"

"How do you mean?" Billy asked.

"Well, like, not use the same kind of knife nearly all the time. Maybe not even use a knife. Maybe we could do other stuff, like make cool deathtraps that they have to escape from, or really elaborate setups for a creative kill, or even just shoot them from a distance or something to spice it up a bit."

Everyone else laughed.

"What self-respecting killer would ever do that?" Jill asked. "I'm a slasher, not an engineer."

"Yeah, we'd be called the OCD murderers," Mickey chuckled.

"Stu, my man, all a good killer needs is a knife and some moxie," Roman said sagely, nodding slowly.

"I guess it is kind of a stupid idea, now that I think about it," Stu admitted.

In no hurry, the seven Ghostfaces finished their dinner, and got ready for their next act.


	9. Against Thee Wickedly

Disclaimer: Guess who has two thumbs and doesn't own Scream? Me!

Chapter Eight: Against Thee Wickedly

The morning after the Ghostfaces' scheming over a hearty dinner, Sidney awoke, still feeling very tired. She supposed it couldn't be helped. Not all stress or fatigue could be solved with sleeping. Her first act was to ensure that her home was still apparently secure. Apparently, her systems were not yet perfect, though, so once she checked that none of her traps had gone off, nor any alarms sounded, she manually searched the house, shotgun in hand. Nothing. So far as she could tell, she was alone.

Not for the first time, Sidney felt a wellspring of resentment and hate for her mother, Maureen Prescott. She hated herself for feeling it, but it was still there. Maureen, unknowingly, had caused so much horror in pain, in so many lives… had she been a different person, how very different, and happier, they all would have been. Even if she just hadn't spurned Roman, her own son, things would be so much less grim… hell, they might all now be happy together.

It was an irrational resentment, for several reasons. Light Yagami and L Lawliet together couldn't have foreseen what Maureen Prescott's actions would have led to, let alone Maureen Prescott. But that was almost rationalizing. The line of thought had done nothing for either Billy or Roman, and it rang hollowly in Sidney's own thoughts as well. What really struck home was the understanding that Maureen had already paid for her sins. Those who had been indirectly and directly hurt by her choices were more than even now. 15 years ago, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher had raped and killed Maureen. She had vilified them completely for it until she had learned about her half-brother, when she had, for the first time, genuinely hated her mother. Although she still didn't condone Billy, Stu, or Roman, she appreciated to a greater extent where they had been coming from. Even Debbie and Mickey… had Billy's spree not happened, theirs would not have, either.

Had the others not happened, Jill and Charlie would never have started, or at least, Jill wouldn't have had things go the way they had. When Roman had revealed himself as Ghostface, Sidney had felt not one atom of sympathy, completely siding with her mother. Retrospect was a funny thing, though, and Sidney had had a decade to do it. She still couldn't sympathize with Roman's choices, but the strain his psyche would have taken to have finally found his mother, expecting a warm, happy welcome, as he would have been anxious to give himself… and to be told that she had not only had no interest in reconnecting with her firstborn child and only son, but that she disavowed all thought of him, that she worse than hated him, that he was nothing at all to her… what was the normal, rational response to that? Was there one?

Sidney doubted it. In fact, in the deepest, most secret corners of her mind, Sidney thought that if that had had happened to her, she would probably have done about what Roman had.

Silence rushed back in, filling jagged spaces. It occurred to Sidney that she was thinking about a very abstract matter to avoid a current and corporeal threat. Also, that she was a terrible person for thinking what she had been.

_O Jesus, I'm far gone… I hope things are okay with Gale, _Sidney thought.

Whether Gale's morning was better or worse than Sidney's, and whether her mental state was any healthier, was arguable. She woke up alone, remembered why, and cried. At the time Sidney had left, it had seemed as though Gale had a billion things to do, but now, she couldn't remember any of them, nothing that really had to be done. Dewey's body wasn't going to be released for a while, certainly.

She was alone, and hated it, but was mixed about going to Sidney's home. It was logical for security, and she'd have a good friend there, but for no reason that stood up to any logic, she wanted to be here, in the home she and her husband had lived in and shared for the prior decade. It disturbed and relieved Gale that even after all the death she had witnessed, and dealt, and the trauma she had gone through, one death could still affect her so deeply. She buried her face in her hands.

_Go to Sid's house, or you might just end up like Dewey!_ her logical mind insisted.

_I don't wanna!_ her emotions responded.

_What would Dewey have wanted?_ both parts thought together. The answer was obvious. If Dewey was alive, or at least in a position to give advice, he would want Gale and Sidney together at the safest possible place, which was probably Sidney's house. Heaving a deep sigh, she called Sidney, who sounded rather troubled, though it was understandable. Gale told her she was coming over, and Sidney replied she'd be expecting her.


	10. The LA Ghostface Murder Cases

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream.

Author's Notes: I wouldn't be surprised if Roman, who is not only extremely manipulative, but unbelievably insightful, was the one to first give Sidney the idea that she hated Maureen, probably back in 2000 when he first met up with her. However, whether Roman goaded her into it or not, the feelings are authentic.

Chapter Nine: The L.A. Ghostface Murder Cases

Over the day, as Gale went to Sidney, the seven Ghostfaces decided that the ones to go to Los Angeles would be Jill, Mickey, and naturally, Roman. They got ready quickly, but perhaps procrastinated. They weren't in L.A. until well into the night.

"So, how to stand out as Ghostface in this big city?" Jill asked. She, of course, had some ideas, but wanted to see what Roman thought. It was his city, and he'd managed to draw plenty of attention before.

"Well, the key is to leave some clear evidence, but not that much evidence. Also, don't be too clever. I framed myself to great effect," Roman offered.

"Hey, what if we, like, killed people with our initials? Like, a new twist on a recurring motif?" Mickey offered, completely in life-imitating-art-imitating-life mode.

"So.. We'd kill a R.B., a J.R., and a M.A.?" Jill mused. "I like it. Sure, let's do it. Roman?"

Roman shrugged. "It's not a terrible idea. It'd be a lot faster than matching first names or characters to actors."

They hit up an almost entirely empty internet café after snagging someone's laptop, and looked up names and addresses.

"How about James Roberts?" Jill offered.

"No, he's married. Probably has kids. It'd be kind of a pain," Mickey said. "Singles are best for something like this."

"See, take this guy, Michael Anderson," Roman said. "Sex offender, unmarried, lives in as remote an area as we could hope for. He's perfect." Roman wrote down his information.

"Now, here we've got Jessica Reinhardt," Roman proposed after a few more minutes of searching. "Single. Doesn't live in as ideal an area as Anderson, but the resistance should be minimal. I like her." He wrote down her information as well.

It took Roman almost fifteen minutes, but at last he found Richter Belmont, who seemed to be something of a shut-in who had changed his name a few years ago. Roman said he might prove a little difficult, but Mickey said he would handle it.

Three hours later, the three targets were all dead. Cameras had caught them, but only in their Ghostface costumes. Roman had purposely left a Buck 120 knife, the knife they had all used since Billy and Stu, at one scene. None had proven to be too big of a problem. Jill had been sorely tempted to show her face to a camera, but her logic had won out. Part of why they were having so little trouble is that their faces were mostly forgotten. Even hers and Charlie's had faded from the public mind, now that they were thought dead.

Learning this had enraged her. Jill would kill a thousand people herself, and would capture the hearts and imaginations of the public as no one before her had! She would be an icon, an inspiration!

But those were thoughts for the future. For now, she accompanied Roman and Mickey back to the others.

Several hours earlier, Gale arrived at Sidney's house in the late afternoon. Both noticed that the other looked very distressed. Sidney had been thinking about it very hard, but decided not to tell Gale that Roman had been there, saying only that Gale should be very careful and vigilant even here. Although Gale had slept a lot lately, she was still very tired. After Sidney showed her around, pointing out the traps, defenses, and hidden weapons, Gale went to the spare room, which Sidney had hastily improvised into a bedroom, and went to bed for the night.

As she had thought might happen, Sidney felt a little better just knowing Gale was there, even if she was asleep. It was both knowing that Gale was a lot safer (Sidney hoped so, anyway) and just having someone else around. At the moment, solitude was not Sidney's friend.

Why hadn't she told Gale about Roman? Was she afraid that Gale would have left? Did she not want to admit that Roman had, for the second time, gotten through her security like it was nothing? Sidney honestly had no idea why she hadn't told Gale then, and hadn't told her now. It was already clear to Gale that Sidney's house was not some fortress. She knew Billy had managed to call her.

Sidney still, irrationally, wondered if it had really been Billy, or a trick by Roman. Her logical mind insisted that if Roman, Jill, and Charlie were alive again, it was not really a further strain on her credulity that Billy, and even Stu, Mickey, and Debbie, had also come back, through whatever means they had used.

Sidney sighed and cried a little, though she did not sob. She had spent fourteen years fine-tuning her skill as a survivor, preparing for anything. And now, she was faced with something so implausible, but inescapably true, that her psyche had lost all the training she had stuffed into it. Every choice she made only seemed to make things worse, to seek her deeper. And somewhere out there, at least three and maybe even seven killers were waiting for their chance to finally kick Sidney into her grave.

This time, Sidney just didn't feel like she had what it took to survive. She had reached her limit over too many encounters, cracked at last by having to face what should have been impossible.

_I guess in the end, they are going to get me, _Sidney thought morosely.

_No way! _part of her mind retaliated. _Bring them all on! They all fucking died when they went toe to toe with me before! I killed some of them myself! I can do this! _Rallying herself, Sidney, for the first time since this new threat had reared its head, felt truly confident. She stood up, genuinely pumped up.

_How much did they hurt me? Piss me off? Take from me? Now's my chance to kill those fuckers all over again! I'm not going to lose out to seven dead guys!_

"I can handle this," Sidney muttered to herself, believing it.


	11. Night and Day

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream

Author's notes: We're already at Chapter Ten… I'm very excited about it! This has become my longest fanfic to date, and we're not yet to the ending, or even particularly close to it. It's also become my best-received work, topping out my Dreamscape fic, Enduring Love. I'm really jazzed about the feedback I've gotten, and want to thank all my reviewers again! You guys are the absolute best!

Chapter Ten: Night and Day, The White Dukes of Death and the Die Hard

When Gale awoke the next morning, she found that Sidney either wasn't awake, or hadn't yet come out of her room. Browsing the kitchen, she got a bowl of cereal, and turned on the news. It took more than a severe personal tragedy and possible paranormal activity to quell the natural reporting instinct in Gale.

All stations were abuzz with some hot murders last night. When Gale heard that there had been three homicides in Los Angeles, she thought it may have been a slow news day, but her blood curdled when it was further reported that the killer or killers had been caught on camera in a Ghostface costume, and there were as-yet unverified reports that a Buck 120 hunting knife, the very same knife most favored by all seven of the previous Ghostfaces (the man reporting called them the Woodsboro Killers, which was no longer entirely accurate, as Mickey, Debbie, and Roman had all operated well outside of Woodsboro), had been recovered from one crime scene. The police had refused to comment on the connection, if any, to yesterday's murder of Sheriff Dewey Riley.

Gale wasn't quite surprised that the media had learned that it had, according to the sole witness, been Ghostface that killed her husband, but she was a little surprised that there was no mention that it may have been the previous killers. A story like that got killer ratings and sold stacks of newspapers and books. On the other hand, perhaps the news stations simply considered it beneath them to report such far-fetched suspects.

She curled up and hugged herself, but Gale couldn't shake a very cold sensation from her core.

Sidney awoke, some hours later, still feeling tired, haunted by dreams of ghastly, white-robed figures all around her. She found Gale on the couch, still watching news.

"Three more last night," Gale said quietly. "in Los Angeles. Jessica Reinhardt, Richter Belmont, and Michael Anderson. Ghostface was seen on camera in costume at a few street cameras, and it's possible that they found a Buck 120 General with Belmont."

_Los Angeles… where Roman lived, _Sidney thought. _Roman Bridger… Richter Belmont. R.B. and R.B. Same hunting knife. Same costume. Jessica Reinhardt, Michael Anderson. J.R., and M.A. Who would those be? _She thought for a quick moment, but it wasn't hard to find the solution. _Of course. Jill Roberts, and Mickey Altieri. _Pieces came together from Roman and Mickey's prior escapades, how they had chosen their victims not just to kill, but to serve as clues to a higher place… and the puzzle here was clear.

"It's them, Gale," Sidney muttered. "Jessica Roberts, Roman Bridger, and Mickey Altieri. In Roman's town, with the same costume and knife those three used. The message is that the three of them did it, or at least, that they're all alive again. They left enough for the connection to be made, but not so much that it gives more hints than they wanted to give."

"Then who'd be next?" Gale asked, seeing the connections clearly as soon as Sidney had pointed them out. Had her mind been in top form, she'd have been the first to see it. "B.L., D.L., S.M., and C.W. That's a whole lot of possible initials."

"Maybe," Sidney said, the gears in her head still grinding furiously. "But not necessarily. For both Roman and Mickey with Debbie, they only established a pattern to point to their motives, and, to a point, their identities, and once they were reasonably confident the communication had been understood, they changed tack so that the pattern wouldn't point to their future victims. Do you think we should report this to the police?" she asked.

"Sid, I think the police get paid to solve crimes on their own," Gale said with a sigh. "What's more, I think that after four times of this, we should just sit back and not get involved if we don't have to. Dewey would have wanted us to be smart and out of harm's way. As far out of harm's way as you and I can ever hope to get, at least."

Sidney's knee-jerk reaction was to disagree, but she wasn't sure why. Everything Gale had said had been true or a good idea. They could try to take justice for Dewey themselves… or leave it to the justice system. They could try to solve the mystery of the revived killers… or let paid, professional detectives do it. Then, they could try to apprehend or kill the killers… or let a SWAT team do it.

"Okay," Sidney said at least. "Let's sit back."

During the day, the seven Ghostface killers, alone or with one or two people, watched the news, eager for the reception of a larger hurrah. Billy, Mickey, and Charlie thought of it as the start of the good stuff. Roman was pleased that enough details were being reported so that the public, as well as the police, had the opportunity to get the picture. He was only a little put out that there were not reports on the methods of death. He and Mickey, at least, had been as brutal as possible, leaving corpses that could almost be considered desecrated. Jill was very annoyed that the connections to her were, as yet, unmentioned, but Debbie had pointed out that it would inevitably happen if they kept it up. She was pleased that somewhere, Gale and Sidney were seeing this too, and perhaps feeling Death's icy fingers gently stroking them. Stu had been very pleased with the ideas the trio had come up with as well as their execution. He felt it had been a natural blossoming of the statement that was being made, namely, to watch the fuck out.

That night, after everyone was settled in, they had a mini-meeting.

"Okay, so I think that we've made ourselves clear in L.A.," Billy said, still squeeing, in his own way, over how cool it had been. "Next up, Windsor College. Jill, you've gotten to be in Woodsboro and L.A., so sit this one out. How about we send me, Stu, and Mom?" he proposed. It was met by nods and mutters of "sure".

"Should we start out tonight?" Debbie asked.

"Naw," Charlie said. "Stay the night here, and work on getting it done tomorrow. Let the Los Angeles shit sink in for people at least a little, and head out with a plan and maybe some targets."

"Let's kill their principal or headmaster or whatever," Stu said, giggling. Billy nodded, liking the thought.

"Sure you don't want me?" Mickey asked. "I actually went there."

"Well, is there anything important to know?" Roman asked.

"Well, this was thirteen years ago, but back then, there were no cameras," Mickey offered. "If there still aren't, you guys are golden. Check, though."

Jill was almost glad not to be going this time. She wanted some time to think about how she could start rebuilding a public image. Better, with Mickey and Roman around, she could ask for advice if she got stumped. She rose up slowly, yawning.

"Well, if that's all, then I think I'm going to go to bed. Tell me how it went tomorrow," she said.


	12. Enigma

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream. I'm not completely sure who does. Wes Craven, maybe? Whoever does, it's not me. I also don't own Dreamscape, Nemeses and JoMarie Bentzler do. The passage of the book that Gale reads is written by Nemeses, not me. I make no profit here.

Author's Notes: Reviews, yay! It's so awesome! We still aren't to the end, but the plot is about halfway done at this point. I bet some among you have already guessed how it'll end… this story actually started, for me, at the ending, and I had to work my way backwards. I am aware that the knife used by Ghostface isn't exactly a Buck 120 General, but if the very small differences between the props and the base model concern you that much, you should probably be complaining on a forum somewhere. As always, please check my profile for the link to a great charity! Please pitch in whatever you can!

SPOILER WARNING: This chapter contains some possible spoilers for Dreamscape, depending on what you call a spoiler. Those of you who don't like such things, proceed with caution!

Chapter Eleven: Enigma

The day passed into night. Gale found that she was unable to sleep at all, despite being fairly tired. However, Sidney was enjoying her first sound sleep in a long time, so Gale had to pass the time by herself. She didn't want to mosey around the house too much. Sidney had shown her where the traps were set, but Gale wasn't sure that she remembered perfectly where they all were, or how not to activate them. The room she was staying in had previously been a small personal library, so Gale looked through Sidney's selection of books. It didn't surprise her that a large portion of the books were about survival tactics and all sorts of information on killers, but it really wasn't what Gale wanted to read now.

After a few minutes of searching, she selected a hardcover book with a haunting cover… it was called Dreamscape. The cover showed a dark, evil looking house, with a bloody, shadowy left hand gripping the front door. It had been written by someone named Nemeses, and illustrated by JoMarie Bentzler. Gale opened the book and started reading about, a dark tale of a foggy, cloudy town called Dromen. Six very close friends had lived there, but their lives had been torn apart when a very powerful vampire came, taking up residence in a sentient, bloodthirsty house and bringing it to heel.

Oddly, reading it brought Gale some sense of peace. Her life was in the shitter now, but at least she wasn't suffering nightmarish hallucinations induced by a terror from another world. She could at least count on Sidney completely, instead of being unable to trust even her closest friends.

One passage in particular caught Gale's eye. It read:

_The resurrected Dark Lord, in another sending of himself, flew through the night sky, though only in a sending of his own body. He had no intention to easily put himself in possibly lethal danger again. He flew quickly through the grey skies, seeking the Slecht household. He had been hesitant to do this at first, but had ultimately decided that what he was planning couldn't really hurt anything, and might help him get the upper hand. With someone as dangerous as Leon had proven to be, you couldn't always sit back and only counter his movements. Sometimes, you had to take the fight to him. He arrived at the house, and spied on what was happening inside. He saw Leon with two girls, and searching their minds, quickly gleaned that they were his younger sisters, and that the three were extremely close. A possible vantage for him to use. He wouldn't act against the children just yet, though. That wasn't the proper way to use a hostage. He'd only make the ultimatum that if Leon didn't immediately relent, he would hurt one. If that didn't work, then the girls were useless to him, and he'd kill them both as fast as he was able to._

Sidney had gotten called by Billy here… was it possible that one or more Ghostface was here now, or close? Trying to keep an eye on them, to wait for a vulnerable moment? If that moment didn't come, would they try to threaten someone close to Sid or Gale to lure them out?

_Who am I kidding?_ Gale thought. _Who's really left that I care about but Sidney? _Gale had no family, and her cutthroat tendencies in the past, and to a lesser extent, the present, had left her almost completely friendless.

Even so, it seemed like there was something here worth applying. She carefully reread it again.

_With someone as dangerous as Leon had proven to be, you couldn't always sit back and only counter his movements. Sometimes, you had to take the fight to him… _wasn't that the very thing she had warned Sidney against, that common sense insisted was a terrible idea? Still, Gale's finely-tuned instincts were trying to tell her something and lead her somewhere, so she closed her eyes and tried to catch up with her reptile brain, which already had the answer, but wouldn't so easily give it up to her higher functions.

It still seemed like a good idea to not get involved if they didn't have to. Any given Ghostface had proven incredibly dangerous, and no doubt even a new one would not break the mold in that respect. Leaving this to the police was still clearly the best idea.

What if… it was Ghostface, one or more of them, who was assuming that Gale and Sidney were dangerous, and had committed to take the offensive? It was possible, but if true, Gale's instincts had really gone to shit. Gale didn't need her survival instincts to independently figure out that she and Sid were prime targets for the killers.

Hours passed, but those were still the only two meanings that Gale could see for what had struck such a chord with her. As the sun rose, exhaustion finally overtook her, and Gale slept.


	13. The Nightmare Reborn

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream.

Author's Notes: It's really anyone's guess what Jill will do if she doesn't feel like she's getting her way fast enough. Jill is brilliant and motivated, but definitely very childish and a sore loser.

Chapter Twelve: The Nightmare Reborn

Bright and early that morning, Billy, Stu, and Debbie were outside Windsor College. They had talked over who should case things out, and agreed that Billy looked the least conspicuous, so he went onto the campus to check for cameras, first on the grounds, then inside. Debbie was a little familiar with the college, but she hadn't been there nearly as much as Mickey had been, and thought that a small measure of knowledge that was fourteen years old was functionally worthless to rely on.

Billy looked laid-back and charming as he strolled through Windsor, like he belonged there. No one seemed in the least suspicious of him. He subtly checked all over for cameras, and was shocked to see that there was still, fourteen years and a few murders later, not a single camera in evidence. How stupid of Windsor College, and how lucky for them… Billy barely suppressed a very demented grin.

He quickly reported his findings to Debbie and Stu over their stolen phones, and they met up to decide just what to do.

News finally broke that morning on the deaths of Henry Napier, Kirby Reed, the Beckers, and the Sheldons. Six more dead. In Woodsboro, no less. It was also reported now that the previous seven Ghostfaces' graves had been dug up, and the coffins were empty. And now, the reporters, however reluctantly, acknowledged that the slayings had almost certainly been committed by Ghostface, and furthermore, that there were some indications the killer or killers may be posing as (at this point, they would not go a word further in surety than that) Billy Loomis, Mickey Altieri, Roman Bridger, Jill Roberts, and Charles Walker, and that it was not out of the question that they would assume the identities of Stuart Macher and Deborah Loomis as well.

And so, it began. Word started to spread that it was the spirits of the former Ghostfaces out for vengeance. By the end of the day, there were churches declaring that they had been revived by the Devil, and endless forums declaring that they were clever illusionists (as indeed, Roman had been) who had feigned their deaths, no doubt with Roman's help and tutelage, that they had become vampires, and a million other theories. Some even shuddered in awe of their feat. A select few looked up to Ghostface as an example of seizing life's pleasures, a throwback to the old days of freely killing those who displeased you.

Back in the morning, Stu, Billy, and Debbie had worked out a pretty simple but effective plan. Stu gutted someone in the men's bathroom, leaving his corpse in a locked stall to be found later, Billy killed someone in the parking lot, and Debbie pulled a trick she had done before, breaking into a van, pulling in someone alone when they passed, and killing them in there. On their way out, the trio didn't pass up the chance to quietly kill two more people on campus.

As it had turned out, Stu had killed a student, Nena Logan, Billy had killed the Dean, John Lee, and Debbie had killed another student, Byron Lucas. The other two killed had been teachers, Clive Wayne and John Revill. There had been no witnesses to the murders, and still, no one had seen anything suspicious. Ghostface had been flawless.

When these events were reported on as well, still more people started to believe that the prior Ghostfaces were alive again. No evidence had been recovered, but how could even two people have wreaked so much death and carnage in such a fast time frame?

When Jill and Mickey learned, they were both delighted. Mickey was satisfied that if they kept going a healthy chunk further, the furor would be unprecedented, and he would become the symbol of the digital age, the mark of corruption, made even more perfect by playing the gullible morons of the world into his hands and onto his side. Those who made him out to be the sick fuck he was would be declared redneck assholes with no understanding of the mind or the world.

Jill, on the other hand, was already getting what she wanted. Already, some sites had popped up supporting the new Ghostfaces. Some referenced her by name. Still more posts on forums had expressed support of the others, and of her. Jill had no doubt it would only grow as they kept on going. She would be a celebrity. She'd even be a role model to God knows how many girls and women. Hell, even boys. Why not? Let all the boys want her, and all the girls want to be her!

None of the others paid quite so much attention to public opinion yet. Even Roman, the next most interested, was mostly just concerned that the public felt something at all, rather the apathy that so often seemed to be the human standard. The others, for now, cared only that they were known. Debbie was pleased that one way or another, she would manage to kill Sidney Prescott and Gale Weathers (_or is it Gale Riley now? _she wondered before remembering that she didn't give a shit).

Sidney had had spent the morning lethargically, despite being better-rested than she had been in a long time. Finding Gale asleep, she had just kicked around the living room, watching movies. She checked the news in the afternoon, with Gale still asleep, and found that the horrors and tragedies had mounted. Despite her seeing the sense in not getting involved, she couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible.

_Maybe Gale and I should talk, _she thought. However, Gale slept the day away, peacefully unaware of how grave the situation was, how much worse it was getting.


	14. Secrets and Lies, Honor and Duty

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream, and make no profit from this work. Also, I own next to nothing, so don't sue me, please!

Author's Notes: I think some of the killers are just itching for Sid and Gale. I'm impressed that the seven have managed to work together as well as they have. It really speaks to their ambitions and motivations.

Chapter Thirteen: Secrets and Lies, Honor and Duty

Gale awoke in the evening, as the sun was setting, feeling cheerful and a little better about things. As sad as she still was, she felt that she was doing a good job of not making things any worse, or putting herself in danger. The police had told both her and Sid to lay low while they were investigating, and Gale had been more than happy to oblige after giving the matter some thought. Her difficulty in solving last night's riddle from her subconscious mind had been largely forgotten, replaced by a renewal of spirit.

When she went out of her room and saw Sidney, she knew that more had happened, and the details came out. The body count was not at four, but now at fifteen. It was now out that Ghostface had been behind it, and speculation was rampant that it had been the previous killers.

"Gale, maybe it is out job to help," Sidney said quietly.

That afternoon, while Stu, Billy, and Debbie had been resting, Roman and Charlie out shopping, and Mickey collecting more knives Jill had the hideout to herself. She decided to use this valuable time to snoop through the others' things. She had found very little of any interest, but did find something very odd in Roman's room. A disc that had 'PLAY ME' written on it.

Jill had popped it into a computer, and a video started playing from it, showing Ghostface. He took his mask off, revealing, no surprise, Roman.

"If you have found this disc, then I am dead, and you are, no doubt, my successor," Roman said solemnly. "I have taken Billy Loomis as an apprentice, but he has proven unable to act as my successor."

Roman shifted position, and did not look completely comfortable. "If someone killed me, and you know who did it, I want you to act immediately on my behalf. Avenge me, as gorily as you can."

He leaned closer to the camera. "In return for this loyalty, I will keep no more secrets from you. In learning about me, you will see many places, but there is one that held special significance to me, and, if we had enough time together, you. If I was not able to have that much time with you, it's up to you to figure it out. Search carefully, and you will find it. I've hidden it away well. Inside that will be all you need to carry on what I have started, whether Sidney is alive or dead."

That was the end. Jill was confused beyond the telling of it. She had suspected that like herself, Roman did not see the seven Ghostfaces as having an equal partnership. This, however, seemed to suggest that Roman was preparing for the possibility of them all dying, or at least himself. She put the DVD back where she had found it. A special place where Roman would have hidden something vital for his successor? Where could it be? What could it be?

Jill knew that she didn't understand, but vowed to get to the bottom of this on her own.


	15. Joker

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream

Author's Notes: Joker here means wild card, rather than trump card or the Batman villain. I was gonna call it Wild Card, but that sounded less cool.

Chapter Fourteen: Joker

The question that would not silence itself in Jill's mind was _Where would Roman have left something that sounds so special?_

It was lucky that she had been the one to find this… had it been Stu or Charlie, they would have never solved the riddle, and had it been either of the Loomises or Mickey, they may well have solved it, and had an advantage over Jill.

Still… even for her, it was a very formidable challenge. Her deductive powers were strained to the maximum.

_Significant place to Roman_

_Roman must have actually been there in person at least once, since he had no accomplice he could entrust it with to hide_

_Small enough to search and find in a timely manner_

_Not so obvious someone else would find it_

_He would have been able to stash something there unnoticed_

The obvious answer was Roman's house, which wasn't too likely. Roman had used his own house for his final killings in his first life. Jill doubted he would have done so if he'd had something important to hide there. The video was also made in the event of Roman's death, and once he died, his house would no longer be his.

Furthermore, Roman's house had already been looked through brutally by those buttfucking police, and they hadn't reported finding anything like you'd leave to your successor. In fact, as Jill recalled, there really wasn't anything too out of the ordinary at all.

Of course, Jill didn't know exactly what she was looking for, and her only hints were that it was something rather valuable that Roman had not chosen to share any details about. Maybe it was quietly stolen, or something the cops would have rather kept hidden? But second-guessing herself like that could go on forever.

It seemed improbable that Roman's house was where it was kept. But it was still more plausible than anything else Jill could think of, so that night, she left, telling the others only that she was heading out, stole a car, and booked it to Los Angeles.

Jill already knew where Roman lived, and wasted no time in going to his house. Her confusion only intensified when she got there, though. It was well-kept, but the house was empty of people and possessions. There was no sign indicating it was for sale.

Easily breaking in, Jill spent almost two hours searching carefully for anything that seemed out of place. And she found nothing. At the end, she was extremely frustrated. She had hoped for at least a clue to where to go, but nothing.

However, Jill knew just the remedy. Her anger had given her a clarity. Who had she lived in the shadow of? Sidney. Who had thwarted her big chance to outdo Sidney? Sidney. Who was everyone pissed at? Sidney.

Jill had thought that just killing her would be enough. But she could see now that she was wrong. If she killed Sidney, that was the end of her suffering.

Jill had decided that she was going to rape Sidney first. Jill had no firsthand experience about rape, but she was aware that it was exceedingly unpleasant and traumatic. Perfect for Sidney to experience for the last bit of her life. Jill gave a charming, girlish giggle ill at place with her macabre thoughts.

Finding Sidney's house was easy enough, too. When you were determined enough, no amount of stealth could conceal your target for long. Sidney's security systems, as well, proved laughable against Jill. Using even the most modest amount of care and observance allowed her to avoid all the traps. Finding Sidney's own room was a little harder, but at last, Jill opened a door onto her older cousin, Sidney Prescott. Fast asleep, her door unlocked.

_Goddamn, am I going to enjoy this,_ Jill thought sadistically. She quietly shut and locked the door. From her bra, she took out a vial containing a syringe filled with muscle relaxant. It would make Sidney physically less likely to resist, but her mind would still be awake and aware. Luckily, Debbie had had some of the stuff on hand for Sidney and Gale. She might notice some missing, but Jill expected that Debbie would approve if she had known.

She injected it carefully into Sidney's jugular. It might do some damage the way Jill had done it, but that was just an added bonus. Sidney awoke, but it was already taking effect.

"Whuzzis?" Sidney asked, unable to articulate herself better, tension draining from her body. Jill smiled pleasantly.

"Good to see you again, cousin," she said sweetly. "I was just thinking how pretty you are, Sidney. Beautiful, even. I bet all the boys want you. Well, tonight, I'm going to have you."

Sidney tried to shout and warn Gale, resigned to the fact that she was now going to die. A pathetic mumble was the best she could produce. Jill paid it no mind. Sidney waited for the knife to come out and into her.

Sidney was shocked when instead, Jill leaned in and kissed her. It was very aggressive and rough, an attack in its own sense. Sidney couldn't bring herself to speak, or even move. She had a sinking feeling about where this was going, and already had the same wish that Jill would have just stabbed her.


	16. Jill and Sidney

_Disclaimer: I don't own Scream. Also, in case I have any dumb readers, I do feel the need to point out that I don't necessarily agree with what every character says or thinks, and not all of what's said or thought is necessarily correct. If you're tempted to complain anyway, it's okay to just read something else._

_Author's Notes: Wow, is Sidney ever in a jam. Believe it or not, I actually had been wondering from the beginning which Ghostface would be in this scene. My initial candidate was Mickey, but it occurred to me, writing Mickey, that he's… ah, how to word this? Mickey's not a nice guy, as such, but there are things he considers to be beneath him, either due to his sense of style or his sense of fair play (No, really, it's there). So, with my main choice turning out badly, I've been thinking about the other six. Billy and Stu are both known rapists, but if it was Billy, it would be too bittersweet and ruin the mood I want, and if it was Stu, he'd have a lot of fun, which isn't exactly what I wanted, either. Debbie was out of the question. At her core, I feel Debbie is a basically good person who snapped under a great trauma. What she did, she did for love of her son. Roman, as Sidney's brother, was also a poor choice. Since he thinks of his mother as little but a deserting whore, I think Roman has overcompensated by being a very non-sexual person, who would never consider raping his sister. Leaving me with Charlie and Jill. Charlie would not have been a bad choice. He's got the sex drive and the malice to make it a viable option. But c'mon. If Charlie was going to do it, he'd have done it in Scre4m. Jill was a much better choice than Charlie, still definitely the type of girl you could see who would be willing to do it, hateful enough to make it frightening. Jill isn't the most imposing Ghostface, or the deadliest, but I think she's got the most spite and tenacity._

_Enjoy._

_Chapter Fifteen: Jill and Sidney_

_Jill pulled back from the kiss, not to be dramatic or sensual, but as if she was savoring Sidney's panic and powerlessness. She wasn't sure how long Sidney would be incapacitated, since her terror would be burning through it faster, but even with that, she thought she had at least an hour. More than enough time to make a statement._

_Jill threw the covers off of Sidney. To the very pleasant surprise of the young killer, Sidney was naked, even though it was November and not especially warm out. The god of luck might not be on her side, but another god was._

"_How can you even pretend not to like it when you've dressed for this?" Jill asked. The terror in Sidney's eyes mixed with a level of shame. Perfect. Jill leaned forward over her cousin, and pinched her right nipple, tugging it hard before biting her breast several times._

"_Jill, shtop eh…" Sidney murmured. Jill squeezed Sidney's other breast, and looked into her eyes._

"_You don't mean a word of that," Jill said decisively. "Of course you want this." She smiled lovingly, and felt between Sidney's thighs. She wasn't particularly aroused, but it was enough that Jill could force her middle and ring fingers inside her. To Jill's glee, Sidney's body was betraying her heart, getting wetter and warmer. This was exactly how it was supposed to go._

"_See, honey?" Jill cooed. "You love this, just like your mother did." Sidney quietly produced a pathetic whine that was probably in protest._

_Sidney wasn't able to move, and barely able to speak, but she was in nothing short of hell. She was no longer sure if Jill was going to kill her or not, but she dearly hoped so. She couldn't deny that Jill wasn't wrong. As rough and aggressive as Jill was being, it felt good, as good as always. In a moment, she was going to hit orgasm. How could she complain about something she so clearly wanted? She felt Jill bite her boob again, sliding her tongue over Sid's nipple, and along with Jill's finger's in her, Sidney came hard, despising herself._

_Naturally, Jill felt it, even though Sidney made no noise and barely moved. She wanted to tongue kiss her cousin, but was too aware of the chance that Sidney might manage to get her shit together enough to bite Jill's tongue. Maybe even bite it off. So instead, Jill forced her index finger into Sidney too. It fit, with some amount of difficulty. It was probably very uncomfortable for Sidney. Good._

_This, for Jill, was not Ghostface against Final Girl, not cousin against cousin, nor good vs. evil, or even killer vs. victim. It was just Jill against Sidney, and all the damage they had done to each other. And Jill was winning by a huge margin._

"_What a slut you are to be able to spread this wide," she sneered. "Don't forget to clean up your whore cum after I finish with you." She went much harder than before; her hand was starting to go numb and shaky. It sounded and felt like she was doing a lot of damage to Sidney's body. Good._

_Sidney still hit another orgasm, and Jill, not wanting to push her luck too much, decided to get one last shot in. She shoved Sidney into position and started licking her sex, teasing the outside before slipping her tongue inside of her. Sidney was able to squirm a little now, and whimper more. Jill definitely was running out of time, but couldn't quite resist this chance. Little more… Sidney was definitely getting hotter and wetter still, and Jill really didn't think she'd be able to do this again, so this one really had to count. She slid her tongue slowly against Sidney, and got the paydirt she wanted- one last orgasm. She lifted her head and smiled again at Sidney._

"_I think that was even better than Auntie would have been," she giggled. "I'll have to ask Billy or Stu to check that. Glad you liked it as much as I did. We'll have to do it again really soon! Goodbye, cousin," she said, and in a flash, Jill was gone. Sidney still couldn't move, so she lay there, raging at the fates and at herself._


	17. Lost in my Psyche

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream!

Author's Notes: I felt that, as a title, "JILL FTW!" was still accurate, but perhaps more fanciful than I wanted. Also, it should be obvious, but for, statistically speaking, 90% of readers, Sidney's just undergone one of the most severe traumas possible, and her thoughts might not necessarily be true.

Chapter Sixteen: Lost In My Psyche

Sidney still couldn't move, but she cried quietly. Eventually, the relaxant wore off and she curled up tightly, still naked, crying harder. Everything was so wrong. It would always be wrong.

Her pussy really, really hurt. Jill might have torn something. She'd have to see a doctor… but how was she going to explain it? Would she actually say that her dead teenage cousin raped her? Would she say that it was consensual and an accident?

Had it been consensual? Sidney was positive that at the start, she hadn't wanted it. But she couldn't lie to herself… it had felt good, so good that she came. Not once, but three times. If that wasn't enjoying it, what the hell was? Could it even be rape if she had gotten off so much?

Maybe Jill told the truth, that that was just the kind of woman Sidney was. A slut, like her mother had apparently been. Maybe she was just getting what she deserved. What she, on some level, wanted.

The voice that was saying that none of this was Sidney's fault was being drowned out by quite a bit of observed evidence. If she had been physically able to at the time, Sidney might even have gotten into it after Jill had gotten started. Maybe she wouldn't have… but Sid would never be sure.

And what about Jill? Sidney had thought that her cousin was going to kill her, but instead, she showed… well, it certainly wasn't love… but it was something, to be sure. It have been as strong as affection. You didn't have sex with people you hated. Was this… something like Jill's way of trying to be friendly? Sidney had no interest in being in a lesbian relationship with an underage girl, but if Jill wanted that instead of to brutally murder Sidney, it seemed more than fair that Sidney respond at least a little to her advances. Maybe this was a good thing.

For hours, Sidney was lost in her thoughts, which were getting steadily less healthy. At last, Gale woke and checked on her friend. She was more than a little shocked to see Sidney Prescott, a woman in her thirties, naked and curled up in the fetal position, weeping steadily, and… doing something with her left hand. It took Gale a second to realize that Sidney was trying to pet herself, like you'd pet a dog or a very young child.

Sidney didn't even seem to be aware that Gale was in the room now. Gale quietly called her name, and Sidney didn't respond. Gale said it louder, and Sidney's eyes briefly flickered to her.

"Sidney, are you okay?" Gale asked, slowly approaching Sidney.

"It's Jill," Sidney said, so quietly that Gale could barely hear her. "She… uh…" Sidney clearly found a different word than the one she had first thought of, "she loved me, Gale." Still moving very slowly and carefully, bamboozled as to what the hell was going on her, Gale sat next to Sidney on her bed, and put her hand on Sid's bare shoulder.

"Sid, what happened with Jill was not your fault," Gale said comfortingly. "I agree that, on some level, Jill did deeply love and look up to you, but she expressed it in such a monstrous way that no one could ever blame you for killing her. Whatever good was in that girl paled in comparison to the disjointed sociopath she became."

"N-no, I mean, Jill _loved _me," Sidney said, breathing out the words. "Last night. She injected me with something, and I couldn't move, and she kissed me, and we made love, and she left afterward."

Gale's first thought was that Sidney had had a particularly bad and realistic nightmare. Gale had more than her share herself.

"Honey, it was just a nightmare," Gale said. "Jill might be alive again, but she didn't come here. You're okay."

Sidney understood immediately what Gale thought and why, and shook her head violently. "No, it was real!" she cried. "I came three times, and it's still on the sheets, and she ate me out, and my pussy hurts from when she was playing with me, and my boob hurts where she bit it!"

Sure enough, the sheets did have a lot of some fluid in them. It was mostly clear, and wasn't water. Gale guessed it was probably what Sidney said it was.

"Okay, Sid, you stay here, okay?" Gale said. "I'm going to go call 911, and explain what just happened, and we're going to get you some help."

She made the call, and told the operator what had happened, and how bad off Sidney seemed, leaving out the part about the possibility that an undead teenage girl was the rapist. Within twenty minutes, there was a police car and an ambulance at Sidney's house, and Gale was taking them to her, hoping that her friend was going to be okay.


	18. Coming For You

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream.

Author's Notes: About whether or not Jill loved Sidney… I think she did, and even at the present time in Killer's Reunion, does. I think that Jill truly loves and respects Sidney, and probably hates her even more because of that. It sort of reminds me of the love between FFVII's Sephiroth and his father, Hojo. I would daresay it's canon that Jill looks up to Sidney for her accomplishments, and wishes to stand with Sidney, and surpass her. It's arguable whether she would have gotten that if her plan in Scre4m had worked, but it's pretty clearly her intention. She just expresses it in a very villainous way. If she'd been better at manipulating people, like Roman was, she probably would have had exactly what she wanted.

Chapter 17: Coming For You

Billy and Stu watched Sidney's house from a safe distance. They were only mildly surprised to see a police car show up, but rather more surprised to see an ambulance pulling up.

"Think it's Jill?" Stu asked. She still hadn't yet come back by the time Billy and Stu had left to spy on Sidney.

"Maybe, but it'd be weird if it was," Billy replied. "She's been gone since, like, six last night. If she'd come here and taken a stab at Sid, that should have been done in an hour or so, whether she won or lost." But Jill had been out for about thirteen hours now. What was she doing?

Sidney, to Gale's dismay, did not go to the hospital, but the police station. The officer had said some shit about needing her testimony immediately, despite the fact that he could have taken it himself at the hospital, or, better yet, here at Sid's house. Gale strongly suspected he was just being a horse's ass and didn't believe Sidney.

So Gale, at the 'request' of the officer, stayed at Sidney's house, which may still have contained a murderous, rapist, undead teen, as far as anyone knew. She was, once more, less than pleased.

At the Carmilla Police Station, Sidney noticed that there weren't any cameras watching things. Absolutely none that she could see. She felt even less safe than before. Despite the insistence of Officer Conway that her statements were immediately needed and had to be given here, he had her waiting in a small, windowless room. There weren't even any mirrors that she was being watched through. When she looked out the front door, there was barely anyone out there.

_Well, now what?_ Sidney thought.

Gale, at Sidney's house, was still livid. Sidney was clearly traumatized very badly, even if it wasn't due to having a dead killer rape her. What kind of shitbag would treat her so badly at a time like that?

Alone, Gale sat and contemplated her options.

As they had watched Sidney leave with the police and followed them to the station, Billy and Stu weighed their options.

"Well, this is a problem," Stu observed. "Should we try to go in there and scope this out?"

"I think this might be a real good chance for us to follow up on the original plan, to kind of flush Sid out," Billy said slowly, contemplatively.

"Us against a department of armed cops?" Stu asked incredulously. "I think we'd get about three steps in before they light us up like birthday candles."

"Ah, we'd do better than that," Billy said. "Against these ass-clowns, we'd do a lot better'n that. Still, I was thinking maybe we should call Mickey. He's got the most experience and best success for doing this sort of work."

Stu nodded, and Billy called up his successor.

Mickey had been very enthusiastic about the idea, and just a few minutes after Sidney, was at the station. Like Sidney, he too noticed the lack of cameras though the windows. Before heading inside, he caught one of the police alone, and slit his throat. His tag identified the officer as Schmidt. He'd been so fucking weak. Mickey was annoyed that Billy and Stu didn't think that they could do this themselves.

Mickey quickly hid the body in a dumpster after looting his weapons, wallet, and tools, stashing them easily on himself. He'd had lots of practice.

Walking in, he gave his charming smile and asked for Officer Schmidt. He'd already turned off his radio and set his cell phone to 'silent'. So, when he wasn't raised, the receptionist offered to go look for him. Mickey gratefully accepted, and when he left, Mickey snuck on through.

It was a very empty police station, despite being rather large. It suggested to Mickey that Carmilla was once a large town that had become very small. Mickey didn't know where Sidney was, but it didn't really matter. He wasn't truly here for her. He was just going to ice a few donut-dunkers, and sneak on out.

No one even talked to him, they just assumed he knew what he was doing. God, this was too easy! Mickey couldn't possibly let himself get caught until he had made some more challenging kills. Slipping into the bathroom, he too used a trick he and Debbie had used before, baiting a mark in and quickly and silently killing them with the knife.

Lurking around hallways and offices, he was able to quickly kill another four before slipping out unseen. He had left no witnesses or evidence other than the corpses. He had moved like a ghost, easily killing six, and vanished like a dream.

Officer Conway was among those killed, and after an hour and a half of waiting, Sidney went up to ask what the holdup was. She wasn't locked in the room, and had already excused herself a few times to get some fresh air and use the toilet.

The receptionist tried raising Conway over the radio and his phone.

"That's weird, that seems to be happening a lot today," he complained. "I wonder if maybe my stuff's not working like it should. But hey, you've had a rough time, I know. We have your statements about the rape, and about everything else. You can go home if you're feeling okay, or to the doctor's, if you're not. Get some rest, and let us handle this whole situation, okay?"

Sidney smiled and nodded, grateful. Conway had driven her over, so she called Gale. Gale answered the phone while Sidney was leaving a message, and sounded out of breath, like she'd just been exerting herself. Sidney was curious about that, but didn't mention it. Gale was quickly over to pick her up, and the two went home.

The first of the bodies was not discovered for another four hours.


	19. Roman's Legacy

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream.

Author's Notes: As the super-wonderful Jill Roberts Fan has pointed out, Mickey is not the only Ghostface who successfully killed some cops, Jill also got two. However, for the last chapter, Jill wasn't available for Billy and Stu, who are both used to somewhat weaker, less armed victims, to call for help. Also, Hoss and Perkins were both credible threats to the structural integrity of any Ghostface, Andrews and Richards, when Mickey scragged the pair of them, were acting as bodyguards, specifically out to apprehend or kill Ghostface at the first chance they had. But neither of them could step to Mickey.

Pretty, pretty please check the link in my profile, and help that charity out! If nothing happens, I'll leave the ending up in the air until JoMarie is guaranteed support! I mean, have you seen her work?

No, I'm joking. I don't have the courage to leave something like this hanging… *Sweatdrop* It's the longest thing I've ever written, and seems to be everyone's favorite of my works, from the reviews it's gotten. Still, please help out a charity!

Chapter 18: Roman's Legacy

After raping Sidney, Jill found a quiet place to sit and think again. She felt better now, but was no closer to her goal. Admittedly, she didn't actually _need_ to see what Roman had left hidden, but you didn't bequeath something like that in a cryptic puzzle via a video will unless it was something pretty damn important.

Roman's house, as unlikely as it was, had been the likeliest place to find it. Where the hell else could it be? It wasn't in his grave, or at least, wasn't anymore if that's where it had been originally, and it wouldn't make much sense for Roman to have already had a grave to stow it in before he was dead.

_Hmm… what about Aunt Maureen's grave?_ Jill asked herself. Roman probably could have gotten there at some point or another, and it was a fairly significant spot for him- Roman had despised his mother by the time she was dead, and indeed, had been the one to start anyone as being Ghostface due to that hate. So, maybe. It was worth looking at.

However, it didn't seem too likely, either. Where else? Sidney's house, perhaps, at least the one she had lived in in 2000. Had she moved since then? Jill didn't really know.

Had Roman even known where Sidney had lived? Probably. Jill seemed to recall that Roman had stolen an official police file full of information on Sidney. It had probably included her address.

Still… that would have been a lot of trouble to go to. It would have had to be in a place where Roman thought Sidney would never find it… on her own property. Plus, it probably would have been more sensible, if he had visited Sidney's house, to just leave a bomb that would explode when she opened it or something like that.

Both ideas weren't good ones. Still… Jill just couldn't pass up a chance to get one over on the other Ghostfaces, to surpass them.

_Maybe I'm crazy after all… guess I'll go check Aunt Maureen's grave, _she thought glumly, rising to her feet.

Immediately after coming home from the police station, Sidney had told Gale that she wanted to sleep. Gale could hardly blame Sid, after a rape and the cockbites at the police station. She asked if Sidney wanted to go to the hospital for her injuries, but Sidney said that she'd see if she could sleep it off first, and if not, she'd go to the hospital then.

"I'll be very close by," Gale promised. "If you need me, shout, and I'll be there in a few seconds."

"This time, I have _this,_" Sidney noted, pointing to a large .44 Magnum revolver on her bed, a Colt Anaconda. Gale nodded, relieved at Sidney's defiance even in the face of what had happened to her.

"Under the living room couch, you'll find a .50 AE long-barreled Desert Eagle," Sidney said. "The recoil's pretty bad, but even Roman in body armor couldn't take a shot from it. Keep it close, and if you see any black robes or white masks, kill the fucker and look into it later."

Sidney locked herself in her room and Gale retrieved the Desert Eagle. It was almost comically large, but as Sidney had said, no one was going to get shot by it and keep fighting.

To pass the time and keep her spirits up, Gale watched TV. _The Texas Chainsaw Massacre _was on. As much as it confirmed a stereotype, it was one of Gale's favorite films.

Soon, she was too wrapped up in the movie to even think about her problems. Her cell phone rang, and she absently answered it.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hello," a familiar voice answered.

"Who is this?" she asked.

"Who is this?" the voice replied.

The voice the Ghostfaces had used to disguise themselves was so prolific that it was now a phone app. The odds that it was one of the actual killers, provided all seven were alive again, was about 7 in thirty million.

"Someone who's well armed and pissed off," Gale replied. "Looking for a fight?"

"Oh, Gale," a woman's voice said. "Always trying to be a big fish in a small pond. But the thing about small ponds, Gale, is that there's nowhere to hide, and nowhere to run."

It wasn't Jill. Could have been Debbie Loomis? Gale thought it sounded like her, but Gale hadn't heard Debbie's voice in 13 years. Impossible to be sure.

"I've been looking forward to this," the woman who might have been Debbie said.

"Well, then let me tell you something extra fun," Gale said angrily. "I've got seven rounds of fuck-you for the first person I see bringing a knife to a gun fight." She hung the phone up, and the caller didn't call back. Checking the number, Gale was unsurprised to see it was blocked.

Let them come. Let them all come, if they wanted. The gun clenched tightly in Gale's hand held seven rounds, as she said. One to kill each Ghostface, if it came to that.


	20. Debbie Alone

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, or Dreamscape, and make no profit.

Author's Notes: It's been pointed out that there may be some dissent over who gets to kill Sidney… I think Debbie, Roman, and Jill want her dead the most, but when Billy and Stu and Debbie and Mickey made kills of any personal nature, they usually aren't shown as caring too much which one gets the victim, as long as someone does. Roman obviously didn't care who got the kill, since he was more than willing to let someone else murder Maureen. Charlie and Jill still are never directly shown to really care about who killed who, if I recall correctly (Charlie in particular shows enthusiasm over his work, but that's not quite the same as arguing with Jill about who gets to do it), but I notice that there's a lot less crossover in personally motivated kills than their predecessors.

Chapter 19: Debbie Alone

Gale considered telling Sid about the call, and decided against it. She had had more than enough already. If someone knew where Gale was, she was at least well-armed in a safe house. It wasn't even a given that the caller had been Debbie. Gale had to admit that after so many years, she could barely remember what Debbie looked like, let alone sounded like. She hadn't had a very distinctive voice, as Gale recalled. And… Gale didn't like dwelling on this either, but a very large amount of people hated her. It wouldn't be the first call she'd gotten of the sort.

She resumed watching _The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. _Gale found it somewhat ironic that so many movies had been 'based on' the exploits of Ed Gein, who, Gale knew, but many didn't, was not a true serial killer. He had used corpses as decoration, but he had not killed more than three people. Indeed, he was only convicted of a single homicide, though he had claimed to commit two.

_Danger is near, _Gale thought, not consciously but instinctively, the same sense she had felt when she was reading _Dreamscape_, that there was something so obvious and huge that Gale was missing… something that was completely eluding her.

As a reporter, Gale loved solving puzzles of exactly this type, but her failure to solve this feeling was stumping her. Had so much of the morbid and tragic shorted out her survival mechanisms at last, having her jump at phantoms? Or was she actually overlooking something important?

The movie ended. Gale channel-surfed, and found nothing. She browsed through Sidney's own movie library, and picked out the first _Twilight._ Gale looked at it contemplatively for a moment. Sidney was more than a bit old for this movie's demographic. Did it speak to her in particular because Sidney had never really found lasting love? There'd been Derek, of course, but Mickey killed him, and as suspicious as Sidney had been of him, Gale thought that Sidney never truly trusted Derek, the way Sidney hadn't truly trusted Billy. Of course, Sid had trusted Billy far more than Derek, on the whole, but she'd often been ready to believe ill of either of them.

Gale knelt down to put the disc into Sidney's DVD player, and felt kind of a pinch at her back, a really hard one. It was the feeling you got when you'd been stabbed. Gale quickly tried to whirl around, but fell on her side to see a flash of black heading to the stairs of the second floor.

"Si-S-Sid-Si," Gale choked out, trying to warn Sidney. But she was losing a lot of blood, and could feel it sapping her already. She made an agonizing journey to her feet and stumbled up the stairs, firmly clutching Sid's pistol. She couldn't scream and warn Sidney, but she could at least do the world a favor and send a Ghost back to its grave.

She checked that the safety was off, and made it to the top of the stairs.

"Oh, Gale, Gale, Gale," a woman's voice admonished. Gale turned, and saw Ghostface, a knife in her hand. "The others will be here soon, and you aren't even going to live to see them. They'll be so disappointed, you know. We'd all wanted to see you again."

It was probably Debbie, but only one way to tell for sure. With a sadistic grin, Gale's reply was to point the pistol at Ghostface's head, and pull the trigger.

_Click._

_What the fuck?_ Gale thought. The safety was off, and the magazine was fully loaded! The hammer had dropped on the pin, so why hadn't it fi-

_Shit, _Gale thought. She hadn't chambered a round, and the ammo wouldn't do anything just sitting in the magazine.

"That's okay, though," Debbie said as Gale tried to pull the slide of the Desert Eagle back. "Don't sweat it, Gale. It's just me, but I'm more than enough for you."

Gale stood there, barely keeping on her feet, desperately trying to cock the gun and losing more blood by the second, while Debbie, her expression disguised by her Ghostface costume, stood 10 feet away, waiting to see if she could get that gun to fire before she passed out from blood loss, toying with her prey.


	21. Two Years Earlier

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream. If I did, I might use this as the plot of 5cream, but probably wouldn't. I also don't own A Nightmare on Elm Street or Resident Evil 4. Nemeses' books and promotions are owned by him, but if you participate, everyone benefits, sooooo… participate, pwease? :D Nemeses is a known Scream fan, he sells the Buck 120, the knife Ghostface uses.

Author's Notes: And now, it's all coming to a head. Sorry this took me so long, I've kinda been doing badly in school… Mommy was mad. *Tear* But then, I actually got to talk to Nemeses! That was really, really cool. More about that at the end, it's kind of a big deal. So, yeah. There's a lot that's good, too.

Chapter Twenty: Two Years Earlier

It all started with one little thing. One stray disc in my basement sitting on top of a lone box, in a small, obscure corner. It was in a jewel case, and on the front, someone had written in permanent marker, "_play me in DVD"_. It wasn't in my handwriting, and I had never seen the disc or the box before.

Resisting curiosity had never been one of my strong points, so I played the disc, and was shocked to see Roman Bridger on the screen.

"If you have found this disc, then I am dead, and you are, no doubt, my successor," Roman said solemnly. "I have taken Billy Loomis as an apprentice, but he has proven unable to act as my successor."

So, this was taken after Billy's death, presumably. There was no timestamp on the video to give any indication of when Roman had made this.

Roman shifted position, and did not look completely comfortable. "If someone killed me, and you know who did it, I want you to act immediately on my behalf. Avenge me, as gorily as you can."

I did know who killed Roman, as it turned out. Many people did, of course, it was hardly a secret.

He leaned closer to the camera. "In return for this loyalty, I will keep no more secrets from you. In learning about me, you will see many places, but there is one that held special significance to me, and, if we had enough time together, you. If I was not able to have that much time with you, it's up to you to figure it out. Search carefully, and you will find it. I've hidden it away well. Inside that will be all you need to carry on what I have started, whether Sidney is alive or dead."

Hurm. Roman had made this before even taking his next apprentice, as a precautionary measure. I guess starting a line of serial killers had meant a lot to him.

What about this 'no more secrets' he was talking about? I sure wouldn't mind knowing it all. Hidden away carefully, but where someone could find it, eh?

A less intelligent person would have been easily fooled, but the best place to hide something was where the seeker had looked already. I went back into the basement and opened the box the DVD had been laying on.

Inside lay two Father Death costumes, new in the bags, two new Buck 120 General knives, two voice changers, two somewhat antiquated cell phones, two sets of body armor, four black leather gloves, a gym bag that held $100,000 in cash and two Glock 17 pistols with a 50-round box of 9x19 Parabellum ammo. There were also several dozen slasher movies on both DVD and VHS, and a player for each type. I guess when Roman made this, somewhere between 1996 and 2000, DVDs weren't yet as available as they were now, though it seemed like Roman had enjoyed the quality and extra features. There was one extra DVD that I assumed was Roman fulfilling his promise.

There was also a letter that read,

_To my successor,_

_Good work. And if you are not my successor, I now pass the duties onto you, and charge you with one last and first mission from me: if you know who killed me, I want you to kill them, and avenge me. In this set, you will find all the materials you need to get started as the next Ghostface. The second set of these tools will be for your accomplice. It is not necessary to have one, but I recommend it. It gives you someone to take the fall if things don't go well, in addition to helping you make a solid alibi, and generally being handy._

_To pick up on some dos and don'ts, watch the movies, they'll give you an idea of what works and what doesn't. The phones are cloned in terms of service and number, and won't be traced to you. The voice changers will come with some treats, as I've preloaded a few modulations into them already._

_The cash is for whatever needs I have not foreseen. If you don't need anything, just save it until you do. Something always comes up._

_The body armor is something I would recommend wearing. The tighter vest will protect against knives, the other will protect against most bullets. They're meant to be worn together. The knee and elbow pads will help you sneak more easily, I find._

_I hope you'll enjoy the knives; they've served many a killer well before you._

_Even if you have no immediate need of these materials, keep them safe and secret. The day will come when you're glad to have them._

_Roman Bridger_

Now just what the fuck was this? It seemed like Roman was dead serious about this 'successor' idea. All these things had to be worth at least $50 grand when Roman bought it, not even counting the $100K in cash. Had there been someone else? Some student who had been meant to find this? Or was Roman so deeply prepared that he had arranged all this as a just-in-case?

I also had no idea when or how Roman could have gotten into my house. It must have been while I was gone, or surely he'd have killed me too.

I popped the DVD into my player, and was unsurprised to see Roman again.

"As promised, I will tell you everything," Roman said. "My mother, Maureen Prescott, functionally disowned me. I was devastated, and livid… and that was when I had an idea. For years before that, I had entertained the idea of being a killer. It seemed almost noble, in a primal way… if you want something, you just take it. If you hate someone, you kill them for it."

Roman paused for a moment before speaking again. As given to lies as Roman had been, this must have felt very strange for him, to be honest and candid. "I could have killed Maureen myself, I suppose. Love or pity would not have stayed my hand. To tell you the truth, I don't know why I didn't do it myself, but it was at least partly because I didn't need to. While I was scheming, a boy named Billy Loomis also had his family life destroyed by my mother, and he hated her for it almost as much as I hated her. So I took him under my wing, and showed him the results of my studies into being a successful murderer. He did well for a while, but was eventually killed, along with his accomplice, just as he was about to do a perfect job. My half-sister, Sidney Prescott, screwed things up for him."

Roman frowned, perhaps unsure of what to say next. "I wasn't too upset when Billy and that other guy died. Billy had been my apprentice, but also a tool to kill my mother, a tool who had served its purpose. But now, I got a good look at my sister for the first time. Sidney was so distraught over her mother's death, and I resented her that sadness. She had gotten to grow up loved, not merely thrown away and rejected. What did she have to be sad about? Sidney had stolen what should have been my childhood!"

Roman visibly calmed himself. "However, I wasn't the only one angry with Sidney. A year after Billy's death, and two years after Maureen's death, his own mother, Debbie Loomis, along with a very talented serial killer named Mickey… uh… God, what was it, something Italian… A-Al-Alteri? Altieri? Altieri? Doesn't really matter, they didn't get the job done, either. This is all publicly known by now, but now, I'm taking my own shot at Sidney, and at everyone… I've picked up a few more tricks than the others, like remembering to wear protection from being shot a bunch of times in the chest, and using the voice changer to imitate other people, rather than just disguise my voice. It's a really high quality model, I've never seen anything else like it. Use it well in your own career."

He turned away slightly. "If you're watching this, I probably died. I thought that I might, even with my edges over the others. Hopefully, I got to take my sister with me. If not, I'd appreciate it if you could finish the job. Be more careful than I was. If she is dead, and you either don't know who killed me, or they've already died, then do whatever you please. Kill whoever it is that you hate the most. It's a very liberating experience to gut someone."

Roman smiled now. "Ah, but there's more good than even that. As individuals, we can die, of course. Billy, his partner, Debbie, and Mickey all did. I probably have by the time you see this, and it may happen to you too. But that's us on the simplest level. On a higher level, we are all Ghostface, a singular killer comprised of many lives. As Ghostface, _we are immortal_! Each new Ghostface is a continuation of those before him, and all of us live on through our newest incarnation!"

That was an alluring thought, but Roman was wrong. He had been the last, and even that was eight years ago. It was a pretty safe bet that the Ghosts were in their graves for good.

"Sidney and Maureen have been our main motivators," Roman continued, "but after we manage to kill Sidney too, there will always be others. After Freddy Krueger killed all the children of the parents who fried him alive, did he say "Whew, that's that taken care of," or did he say, "Every town has an Elm Street", and look to broaden his horizons? We'll be the same way." The video stopped.

All of Roman's secrets seemed to be little I didn't know already. Maybe he'd been more honest than I had attributed to him. Maybe he had lied and still kept more to himself. Perhaps it was just a token gesture to increase the likelihood that he'd be avenged. Who knew with a guy like that?

There was no way I could honor Roman's wishes. I wouldn't kill Dewey Riley, nor would I ever become a killer like the five Ghostfaces had been. I should just pocket the cash and throw this sick shit away.

_But… what if I kept it? _A small part of my mind asked. _Just hung onto it, like Roman suggested? After all, this is a lot of very nice stuff here._

That part of my mind made a valid point. The guns, the knives, the electronics, the armor… they were rather fine, expensive things. Even the Father Death costumes, though cheap and plentiful, were well-made. The gloves Roman had included were very nice. It's not like I had to become Ghostface just because I had the material means to do it, no?

No… I wouldn't become a serial killer, no way. _But what if…_ that same part of my mind mused, _there was someone else, someone inside of me, who could do what it takes to get even, and get ahead? What if… what if I could be like Mickey, or Debbie, or Stu, or Billy, or Roman? _No harm in entertaining the thought, surely. And if I did have a drive like that inside of me… if I could have Mickey's deadliness, or Debbie's tenacity, or Stu's passion, or Billy's charm, or Roman's brilliance and creativity… well now, wouldn't that be something?

AUTHOR'S NOTES- PRIZES AND FREE PREVIEWS OF NEW BOOKS: Okay, so, like I said, I got to talk to Nemeses recently, which was really cool. But that's not all! He also wanted me to tell you all this: As of now, it's September 25th. If, by October 15th, any of his donation things has at least $20,100, he'll release preview chapters of three as-yet unreleased books on FictionPress, the non-fan fiction version of .

That's cool, but it gets even better! If that $20,100 for any open donation cause is met, there will be prizes given to the top three contributors.

The person who gives the most will get an Eighth Cutter sword. It's the gunblade that Nemeses makes and sells, like Squall's Revolver in FFVIII and Dissidia, but not. You'd have to see it for yourself. It's valued at $800.

The person who gives the second most will get their own copy of the Dreamscape Collector's Edition, which is a signed, numbered, limited run in hardcover, with a copy of A Living Nightmare as well as either Leon's jacket or Eerzuchtig's gloves. It's valued at $250.

The person who gives the third most will receive a black, custom fitted Dark Lord's Robe. It's valued at $100.

Now, that's a lot of prizes, isn't it? But there's even more! Anyone who donates $500 or more will get a year's subscription to Nemeses' own buyer's club thingy, The Society Of Dark Lords And Ladies.

Wow, is that ever a lot, but it's even crazier than that! If all four donation causes are completely met, Nemeses is going to give absolutely every donor, no matter how small their contribution, every single prize on this list, except for the limited edition Dreamscape Collector's Edition, which will be replaced with a MercWorx Sniper Standard knife. It's that knife Leon Kennedy used in Resident Evil 4.

What, you think that's all? Not so fast! There are even free prizes! If you promote this promotion, email Nemeses a link so he can see it (for his email, go into my profile, click that link, and from there, go to the Contact page) and you will get an ebook copy of Dreamscape as well as How To Succeed At Absolutely Anything And Get Better At It Each Time! How cool is that? You can literally just copy and paste this into your website, your blog, your own fanfics, your YouTube channel, send an email, and get some free books out of it!

The link to that donation page is in my profile, so check it out! The clock is ticking!


	22. Hell's Heart

Disclaimer: I don't own Scream. I wish I did, though. Lot of neat stuff in there.

Author's notes: _If you somehow missed that delicious extra stuff last chapter, take a look at it, you're running out of time to get involved!_

_Also, as a fan note… I'm trying to think of theme music for the killers, particularly for this fic… so far, I'm thinking of-_

_Jill Roberts: Paparazzi, by Lady Gaga (I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you til you love me)_

_Roman Bridger: Psychic Vampire, by Ikon (I don't wanna know anyone like you, I will never trust anyone like you)_

_Mickey Altieri: Duke Nukem 3D theme, by Lee Jackson (I'll rip your head off and shit down your neck!)_

_Billy Loomis: Smooth Criminal, by Michael Jackson (As he came in through the window, was the sound of a crescendo)_

_Charlie Walker: I Tamper With The Evidence At The Murder Site Of Odin, by Dethklok (You will hunt through life, the physics of this world can't stop my crime)_

_Stu Macher: Logos Naki World, artist unclear, like the lyrics (Oh, down, down wish it was just a revelation, take me once, take me into the revolution)_

_Debbie Loomis: Zerospace, by kidneythieves (I met a fellow zero, he took me to the silver people, I said "I think you are my hero, we were one, it all was clearer)_

Chapter Twenty-One: Hell's Heart

_Oh, Goddamnit! _Gale thought. She was still weakening, and just couldn't pull the slide back on the Desert Eagle. The bullet it would fire could probably half-disintegrate Debbie, but she just couldn't do it, and was getting less able to do it by the second as she continued bleeding out.

"_I hate you!_" she screamed at Debbie as loudly as she could, unable to perform any more harmful action. It still came out far too quietly, barely at conversation volume. It was impossible to see Debbie's reaction under her mask, but she cocked her head, so it had some effect on her, no matter how minor it may have been.

"Gale," Debbie said slowly, "You're bleeding to death, dear. You might survive if you got some first aid, but you won't. Sidney doesn't know we're here. It's just you and me, and I'm going to watch you die. You really made it difficult to kill you, so I want it be something frustrating like this."

_What I wouldn't give for a Devil Trigger or an available Limit Break at a time like this… _Gale thought. On the heels of that, she thought, _Devil Trigger? Limit Break? I must have lost more blood than I thought… ugh._

"God, but it's good to see this," Debbie said softly. "Do you have any idea how many times I wished with all my heart to see this? More than a thousand times, I fantasized about this exact moment. You, dying, with what you want just a few scant feet away, so near and yet so far. It's not unlike what I felt in my final moments."

"You and Billy got exactly what you had coming," Gale sneered. In life, speaking ill of Billy was the surest way to incite Debbie into a rage, but the way she cocked her head, it seemed like she was smiling under her mask.

"Yes, Gale, we did. We got to live again. Billy and I beat Death, and I bet that even if we should die again, we'll keep coming back. You can't win. This is what we deserve."

"You're not going to get away with this," Gale muttered, glaring hatefully at Debbie, wishing she could see the woman's face. "Even if I die, Sid or someone's going to send you straight back to Hell."

"Ooooh, now I've learned my lesson," Debbie said. "I'm getting bored, Gale. Die or shoot me." She took a step closer.

Gale felt a surge of adrenaline pump through her, and used it to rack the slide. She fired a shot at Debbie.

Debbie flinched and halted, but it was only due to the noise. Gale had missed (Author's interjection: before I get complaints about this, outside of movies, a lot of shots taken under stress miss, even at point-blank range by trained and practiced gunfighters).

Gale took a second to aim this time, but Debbie was in no mood to let herself take a .50 AE round to the chest. He lunged, and, unable to get the knife up, she used her left hand to deliver a devastating left cross into Gale's nose.

The punch brought Gale to her knees and made her drop the Desert Eagle. As she fell, though, her hand swiped out, pulling off Debbie's mask. A voice changer that had been placed inside it fell out and clattered to the floor.

Gale looked up, and her temperature immediately dropped three degrees. She stared, eyes wide with revelation, unable to understand or believe what she was seeing. Debbie watched Gale with growing confusion.

"What is it?" Debbie asked after several moments, growing anxious and impatient.

"I… I can't believe it's you, that it's really been you all along," Gale said in a volume barely above a whisper.


	23. End of an Age

Disclaimer: I still don't own Scream? Really? What's up with that?

Author's notes: Now, we stand at the end of our journey.

Chapter Twenty-Two: End Of An Age

Gale looked at the unmasked Ghostface, and everything fell into place.

_Only you ever saw them and lived! _she thought.

**Fifteen Hours Prior To Billy's Call to Sidney**

_No, I'd never be a serial killer, would never be Ghostface. But… what if I was? What if they were reborn through me? _The thought consumed me, though I had rejected it so strongly that it had formed a schism, a me who was unaware of me, and didn't even remember finding Roman's gifts, and a me who was thinking about taking him up on his wishes more and more. In time, it gave way to memories. From the day I had found Roman's last surprise, it had grown a little stronger. But after Jill and Charlie… it engulfed me. I would never escape Ghostface, so why not join him? Had any of them ever been wrong? Were they really so terrible, or were they seizing power and life? Had I been the naïve one this whole time?

Can't… can't sleep. But I wasn't trying to sleep, I was trying to wake up. More than one of me. How many more? I hear seven voices gently murmuring as they return… where are they coming back from?

William Loomis… Stuart Macher… Mickey Altieri… Deborah Loomis… Roman Bridger… Charles Walker… Jill Roberts… I hear them all. But they can't breathe, can't come all the way back yet, they still need life… and the anchors to their lives in this world are in their respective graves.

Have to get them out… they have to come back. If they don't, I can't have any peace. I've lived with you so long I can't even remember life without you.

The time passed in a blur, but I got all their bodies out, feeling each of them revive, their voice clearing and their personalities establishing as they were taken from the graves.

At last, I finished, reviving Jill, Charlie, Billy, and Stu in Woodsboro. I could see them around me, and they could see each other. Gratefully, I dissolved into their psyches, and Ghostface lived again.

They knew what I knew, knew to go into the basement and see what Sidney forgot-

Sidney didn't know, of course. She never noticed the time missing, never noticed things not adding up. The killers didn't have to find her; they never left.

When she was with Dewey in his final moments, Dewey had never seen anyone but Sidney- how could they have gotten so close? But it was indeed Charlie Walker that was with her, and Jill Roberts. Charlie's hand had reached into Sidney's purse, drew a knife, as Sidney walked behind Dewey, and slit his throat. Sidney had seen him and Jill doing it, her mind trying to make sense of what was happening while the three of them were together.

None of the Ghostfaces had noticed it, either. They were aware of each other, but unable to perceive themselves as anything but completely separate entities. They didn't realize how close to Sidney they always were. At every murder, no matter which soul made the kill, the victim only ever saw the face of Sidney Prescott.

On the night Sidney was at the Riley House, the same night that poor Kirby met her death, on one of her trips to the bathroom, Jill and Charlie woke up, and decided to slip out quickly to pay Kirby a visit. Everything she needed was still tucked into in her purse. The Father Death costume folded up wonderfully, something Debbie had learned years before. In a fugue-like state that no mind remembered, Sidney's body, under no particular direction, had adjusted the voice changers. They had come with more than passable imitations of Roman and Billy already on them, and working from memory, Stu, Mickey, Debbie, Jill, and Charlie had been added. While Charlie made the call and Jill snuck in, they had shared the same body. When Jill had unmasked, Kirby had seen the face of Sidney Prescott, had died seeing her visage.

The killers, transitioning between the two sections of the life they now shared, had rushed back to Gale's house, barely pausing to kill poor Henry on the way, who hadn't even seen anything odd about a woman hurrying through the night. It had been fast enough that Gale hadn't felt anything was strange about it.

The killers' meetings were purely in the realm of the mind. None of them knew that, could not be aware in the same way that Sidney could not allow herself to be aware of her missing time. No one ever noticed much. Gale was the only really possible witness, and she and Sidney both had been spending a good deal of time out of the other's sight.

Every kill had been done with Sidney's body. She could sneak out easily without Gale's knowing while transitioning into Ghostface, and leave as any number of the killers.

Debbie hadn't needed to break into the house, nor had Jill or Roman. They'd never come, and never left. Sidney's rape, as terrible as it was for her, was physically performed only by herself. When, as Jill, she had found Roman's last directive, she didn't remember it, only remembered it was something she prized, the key to the rebirth that Jill now enjoyed, and finding it now obsessed Jill. Jill's actual body was hidden where no one would ever find it, in the uppermost rafters of Sidney Prescott's house, along with the others, wrapped up air-tight so that the smell could not give Sidney a hint as to what was happening inside her.

In one sense, Jill, Billy, Stu, Mickey, Debbie, Roman, and Charlie were still dead, and had remained so this entire time. But in another sense, they functionally lived again, though only a half-life, sharing one body, and their personalities formed from Sidney's memories of them. It was still an immortality beyond what most had attained.

And when Debbie looked at Gale, slightly confused at her reaction, Gale was looking at Sidney.

"Sidney, how could you do this?" Gale asked in a voice barely above a whisper, hurt more by this apparent betrayal than the fact that she was 9/10ths dead.

Debbie's confusion only grew.

"Sidney?" She said mockingly. "Is this some last-ditch trick to live, Gale? Some desperate hope that I will turn my back and let you vanish?"

Now it was Gale's turn to be confused. She had expected a triumphant boast about how she was about to get away with it and blame it on the dead, but whoever it was under Sidney's face seemed genuinely unaware that it was her face. She was even speaking in Sidney's natural voice.

"Sidney, please," Gale desperately entreated. "You wouldn't let me die, would you?" Everything was going dim. If Gale was going to live, she needed help immediately.

Debbie sneered down at Gale. "No, I don't think Sidney would, the sweet little murderess. But I'm Debbie, and I have waited a long time to see you die, Gale, come back from Death's embrace just to see you and Sidney Dead-Whore-Mother-Cunt-Fucking-Asswipe Prescott die!"

Her patience with letting Gale die slowly on her own time broken, Debbie lunged forward, her knife hand poised, and sunk the blade into the back of Gale's neck. Gale twitched, and was still.

"Good riddance," Debbie said happily as she used her gloved fingers to wipe the blood off of the blade.

"Mom, good going!" a familiar voice exclaimed from behind her, on the first floor. Turning, Debbie saw Billy grinning that smile she loved so dearly back up at her. Everyone else was with him- Stu, Mickey, Roman, Charlie, even dear Jill was now back with them.

"Hey, how about we finally get to it, eh? Kill Sidney, and then, be free to do whatever we want?" Mickey asked, happier than he'd been since his very first kill.

As one, they approached Sidney's bedroom. Transitioning between, Debbie/Sidney had unlocked it on their way out. They entered her room.

A single scream rang out.

**END**

Author's Notes: Well, what do you think of that one, eh? I'm happy with it, especially the open ending. As to what really happened, I know, but I'll never tell.


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